flesh stilled by glass spires stabbing at the dark side of the moon
Tag: art
the soft breath of mist over the hills in silent decay
a thousand eyed tree at the end of a decrepit tunnel questions your sanity
lips burn as serpents and scaled beasts slither free reshaping reality
the sky is not blue but the memory of a pale god unmade
i see the future not the way you do an alternate reality that creeps on you in slow pulsating waves of stupor
the noon drizzle disturbs the old gods sleeping in the dust
buries itself deeper in the throat of the elder elm the living blade refuses death
the first spell was a scream not meant to rule but to rupture the minds of the invaders
dusk the forest full of ghosts who will sip your name from bones
elancharan gunasekaran 