Shishcumba

For prevailance in death we rest our hope. the procuring of life is the hindrance of another. with skin, and fur, and blood, we'll keep ourselves alive until from us it's plucked for a fragment of our warmth. Pestilence upon our stock. Drought amongst our fields. preserved through years. Unescapable.unescapable. The fire is burning for all of our hands to feel. . . . As teeth clutch at our throat, trial of fate, we quiver. Pulsate to discover on which side balance lay. even they, the sun's light, to survive must stealAs your body dies, the immortals violate your soul to sustain their own. There will be no peace waiting for you here. One can not fully understand these minds. But do not fall pray to their illusions. For they are fated along side us, burning, in this artificial hell.