The Ascenders Whisper

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I remember running to you cruel lovers

My curators of internal madness

I took my seat under the guillotine

Watched the shadow procession on the walls

As they were splashed with blood ink

Crystal tears lodged in my pale throat

Severed wings, ripping away the dogma of my innocence

Awakened the gods of dust within my trembling heart

Seized my undying breath, the light flickered out

I was submerged in melancholia

And the curtains fell over my sight

Chained to my sorrows and perpetual punishment

Inhibiting my joyfulness

To avoid those vicious truths

And create my palette of lies

I earned my bruises and crusted wounds, to walk among callous men

Our camaraderie dripped in crimson debauchery

An abstract fantasy, tentacle pornography

Confronted by my loneliness with the coldness of your touch

The confessor of my new-found destruction

Acknowledged my sources of distress in the pit of doom

Deconstructing their perfected facades

Exposing my ill-fated monologues

To leave behind my trail of errors

My affinity for spiritual decay

Time will eradicate these wilted dreams

Conjuring waves of self-compassion

To arise from the sobriety of my grieving

My mind is a keeper of torments

A conjurer of painful markers

But I am the progeny of my follies

And many transitional upheavals

As my skin thickens

My tongue becomes sharper

My eyes ferocious electric storms

Eviscerate my weakness, the shroud of naivety

And I shall not falter

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