Sated

Where do we go when we just don't know
And how do we relight the flame when it's cold
Why do we dream when our thoughts mean nothing
And when will we learn to control?

- Godsmack


*The black ichor, is long dried now on the walls of the abandoned crypt, and clings to the massive vault threshold like a pox. A festering smear with the make of ill script is found in the glooming. Lost to looming enthropy is the talon which stroked its purpose.*

...But of memories lost, we are thus abused, and in sinner's vice so we amuse. To those who watched, give poor fellows a buss, and listen gladly...for Beyond the dark portal we watch, and with giddy madness come and but follow sadly.

*and then 'painfully' spit and caressed upon the wall*
-NADJA-


*Tis signed with a bloody kiss which licks its way down to the filth and drain below*



((Turn Me on Mr. Deadman. Alas the First Mistress of Gluttony has slipped beyond, but in the aftermath of her hate a worldly infection remains, and may yet breathe the mephitic air of the Isles soon again.))


*a soiled white feather lay crushed nearby*