there was a rage, in the eve of time

formed by black wings of loss

and meandering rivers of misguided paths

there was fear, in the mist of bygone days

swallowing the light with toothed jaws

bleeding on my skin; red against the blue

flayed feelings; open soul

I pull my second skin with razor blades and sharp daggers

I drag it out to commit atrocities

to be loved; a craving shadow among falling raven feathers

desire for the night incarnate

blooming in me with beautiful tenebrae

washing me with stunning gloom