The rear falls down. The ground levels up. The tides draw back, as the one beneath hurls itself up the sky.

The roaming won’t stop. A scream combined maps the glory. The suffering will not end, if you don’t care.

The rain fills the cup. A sign of reverence. A message of selfish astronomy, opening the door to hell itself.

The sea serpents warcries echoes. An ocean floor is dried. Marching to the second heartbeat, with heads drawn back.

Defined, we march onwards towards the gaping maw of doom. Freed, one loose oneself within a second. Reckless, I celebrate the forever reclaimed.

Massacres. Death by deathcoat. Clearly signless. Pointlessness within comprehension.
The road to equilibrium, is there.