pittura infamante

[FaustianPanzer]

i dream of the desert
where the wind is a reaping scythe at day
and the howls of the dead at night

i dream of the desert
where life boils under the sun
and is picked clean under the moon

in those dreams
i see the flames of [the sun] flooding the land,
and twist the desert into a palace of glass.

in that fragile tower, i see a shadow
she named and drew it
and revealed to me it's symbol.




in the end, i could not understand
she warned of what my potential would bring
yet yearned for what i would become