The exosphere of old cycle scavengers predate the plunge of the serpent rider back into the abyss. Scintillating through the descent. Drawing back the obsidian arrows – straight through the heart.
In which where their bones of iridescent scales once lay; shall I the same. Wild stallions upon ethaxian plains. Mercenary mechatronic heatseek stampedes hone in on mutant carbon-based cruelties with circlets of red-dot iron sights.
In flames; be fauna, xae, and all flora. Engulfed. Forgotten in transliminality. Within these crystal tears, leads for the keeper of eyes to glisten. Hidden shrouds. Carcass amidst.
“I contemplate the soil as a wayward shadow which
The sun of the living excites (heats) not the dead.”
Ascension: for the moonstone jewels compose the crown of the crescent bride, bequeathed upon spirals of locks. On the thrusted skies, we would get nourished upon the source; the chariot of dawn to bask in the eternal solar ponds; suspended in light.