From the abyss of my mind in ancient tongue
dripping with the profane’e ink as the quill
pirouettes like an obsidian needle dancing
across vellum suturing your womb with threads
from a midnight’s sin of blasphemies
that coil from your throat’s authopsy
between cognac and unfiltered cigarettes
where echoes of your gasps cling to arches
before my ink expires hungry for the grave
Rated for Mature(17+)
From The Abyss Of My Mind
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