Unsound

Death. The petrified landscape. Loss, holy pain, dismember my soul, burn my heart and make me weep. Naked. Raw and unearthly screams. This immense and utilitarian vulgarity. Standing alone, sacrificial and a lamb.

Spread your wings, you and your sacred beauty. A soul to befriend the night, the great starry and blue night. And I will be sacred too and follow you under night’s belly and see it’s hallowed face.

Sacred you. Sacred secrets, lies, words. My song is sacred, your song is sacred. Everyone is sacred. Fear sacred. Death, morality and beasts sacred. In the next millennia we will still be sacred.

Knock my door, touch my face, hear my song, feel my hands, kiss my lips, judge my life and love by my side in all that is sacred of this fateful, unapologetic, pinnacle of a night.

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