Ritualist
There are
days
when you could just materialize
WINGS
and other
days
when you feel the
WEIGHT
from your
head
pull you to the
CORE
of the world.
Regardless of where you go
you can still feel your
TOES
singe from the
FLAMES
of hell.
No amount of antidote can
bring you anywhere
NEAR
the oblivion you seek.
The feeling of
NOTHING.
The feeling that you can no longer care
and
the feeling of singularity.
An
ABERRATION
that disappears with time.
Let
me
go
HOME.