The heretic of the stars (Patreon)

There is a blackness, a hole within space, turning endlessly like both a dream and nightmare. All which bends around it become its rings, destined to return to its center and reach out once more. Screaming for nurture, for life, for love. 

we walk this Earth whose underfoot is made of woven strings, unaware in our meekness and trivial yearnings for the limited,  that it blind us to the ethereal. The motions and murmurs of a cosmos in terrible pain. 

It is our sadness, our pain which awakens us and staves our eyes even if momentarily from the shackles of a rotting and meager system. Those that walk this path are alone. Those who walk this path despair for they will forever be the exile who remains amongst those who refuse to dream. 

All one need do is close their eyes and deafen there ears, and they will know it, that inescapable truth.