waking to the prophecy of moth clouds blanketing the fiery skies
Month: September 2025
quiet until you feel the hum of the gods in your frail bones
bravely we emerge from concrete caves only to be scared into hiding by the unfamiliar silence of day
the machine god sings in code and static will you bend the knee and strip yourself of humanity
soft feathered gods outside the window teasing the frail with whistles and dance
thread lightly this flesh is conduit between the worlds of reality and illusion
archive the madness of summer within this bone vault of ribs
the cold bleeds into the river and embraces bare feet
the birth of silence tastes like ash harvested from the fires at the end of time
serpents in the mist soak in monsoon’s thunder