Apotheosis dawns; urging the era of the red sun.
Awakened and vigilant; the hidebound assemble their guns..
A hellscape dystopia.
A desert brood emanates from the municipal womb.
Bipedal hyenas scour for the leftover carrion.
Pure souls learn firsthand the definition of gloom.
Lives lost, lives scattered, and lives diminished; bleakness envelopes the day that comes.
Strange that some are perfectly happy living upside down, high as shit; banging the heretic’s drum.
Apotheosis dawns; urging the era of the red sun.
Liminality of the son or daughter, forced to come to terms with disaster; before the appropriate time.
Desperation of the progenitor who puts themselves above all else.
Abandonment of conventional roles in order to prolong little more than suffering.
Strange that some are perfectly happy living upside down, high as shit; banging the heretic’s drum.
Apotheosis dawns; urging the era of the red sun.
Respiration of the old world; gasp for air but only receive polluted particles.
Delve deep into ruinous structures, retrieve the lifeblood of the new economy; sometimes a shelter to wait out the scourge that is the night.
Temperamental storms periodically make the sky roads dangerous; barring peaceful travel between escalated outposts.
Alliances tenuous at best; shudder in the face of supply shortages.
Not uncommon to see infighting for scraps of food or clean needles and a lunt.
Strange that some are perfectly happy living upside down, high as shit; banging the heretic’s drum.
Apotheosis dawns; urging the era of the red sun.
A wise man once said, “It doesn’t matter how much you try to repair all that’s broken; god would still forsake us on his lunch break.”
Were I to forget such words; it would give me undue hope.
Living upside down is fine for some, but in the world to come; you would have to be awfully dumb.
Respiration of the old world is failing us..
Apotheosis dawns; urging the era of the red sun. –Michael Kabu Ament
STÖK 