Carrion Spring
Hemorrhage
All this murk we're drownin ina hemorrhage from leeches rotting on the wounds of cankered institutions.so futile a tourniquet.Become decrepit, every sinew.every cog is rusting.seams are ripping.artificial selectionnatural retaliationabandoning all stationswon't ever stop the bleed of these machinesacutely distort imminent disastersto keep us calm before the storm.
From Letras Mania