A burden to feel an impure hunger of heart. Convince my nerves of the familiar, crafting pathways for the plague to wander free. Covet not what can't belong, purging the lost of aimless impulse. Remove the feet from broken necks, allowing souls to cease and never breathe again. Dragged through a forrest of blunt blades praying for my shell to catch on sharpened leaves. Alleviate the loss, carving circles in the branches we collect. Burn my world away, an atonement for incisions I have made. I am one with rotting flesh, gagging on the fumes disguised at christ-like winds leading me away from sky. Covet not what can't belong.