do we flee or stay the city has us trapped in its belly poisoning and siphoning our souls as roots grasp at limbs and raise the fallen in ritual to the overlords of night
Month: January 2025
where the silver wolf walks a forest of iron trees bloom leaves of rust fall each holding the paths the chosen will take
the priest is a ghost in copper armour his sermons lash out and curl like vines across the body of the moon
winter’s breath summons a dragon made of midnight feasts on dying moons
icy labyrinth the lich pulls maggots from the brains of dead gods
a blacksmith wreathed in fire forges a melody of war for the mad king
the living alone understand the marrow deep grasp of winter
ghastly moths drink light from the eyes of dead royals
he laughs with the fangs of a wolf and wears the dreamy eyes of things forgotten
root to bone the kingdom blooms where he bleeds
elancharan gunasekaran 