A sign beheld
Of living stone
Sprawling across the vault of heaven
An embrace of amorphous clay
The child thrashes in the formless cradle, offspring of time and dust
Pangs of the birth which is to come herald the source of life
Thrusting infinite pressure
Mass infinite fragments
Dense solar clusters
Energy creates beginning
Unbearable crushing tension
In turbulent discord
Bleeding out the newborn
And reforming the flesh
The heat of this withdrawal becomes the beating heart
A host to feed on the gushing wounds
And thus, the flesh is complete, relieved by the placid storm
Calmed by the forlorn embrace of its dwindling home
Rising to rear its young in the warmth of its light
From the birth, an exhalation, the first breath of a star
Breathe
In your
Illuminate
Yourself
Stellar winds
Until your life
Son of Sol
Nigh is your dawn
As the night is cold
Within the sea
A writhing mass
Source of knowledge
Forged in dust
A chain of sinew
Stretching forth
Children of flesh, children of blood, and time
Awake your dormant minds and claim your rightful heir
But through
A loss
To the self
And the false
Sense of light
A dark
Perverse
Forgetting the past
To devour the marrow of all
A cancer of thought
Breeds death
The sons of light
Stricken and worn
A cannibalistic being
Failure of eternity
Have you not foreseen the cost of this corruption?
In it, Ouroboros is complete.
Devour thyself. Devour thyself.
If you wish that your end
Gift thyself to the sanguine sphere

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