There is nothing in this flowing
Feather pillows ripped open
Beaten against concrete walls
They flutter and twitter, giddy
In blankness
It is not gray nor black
I Dunk my head in buckets of
crude oil. Take thick hopeful
breaths
Why won't it take me?
Where is suffocation
Amidst this emptiness?
"Arise, son of destruction!
Be not at rest in this hour
Of End."
It is hollowness in a void
Standing, I let Black
Trails slowly cascade
Down my naked body
Over concaved collar
Bone. Across dark hard
Nipples
It is time.
Strike goes the match.
Crackle goes the phosphorus.
Humm goes the flame.
Nothingness burns.
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