Through The Shattered Veil Of Self and Imposed Torment, a poem.
I have seen the blackest pits beyond oblivion and there is naught but hopeless abandon. I know what it is to look into the eyes of Madness.
Through the veil that separates our realm of existence from what lies beyond, I fell.
There was a creature there, a horror, that seared my mind with its image. I became its thrall. A subservient shell.
I allowed it to bend my will with the chilling touch of torment and I was content in this.
No longer. I became as solid as rock, I became as destructive as water, I became the Earth and I had fury.
I looked at the horror and uttered, “watch that dead biscuit.” It looked, and I was free.
