Continue gnawing at my tail,
In perfect representations of Gluttony.
Infinity.
Entropy.
Alchemy.
“They’re Harvesting Me For Parts.
Plucking Symbolisms;
Fits & Starts.”
There’s thy fuckin’ title.
Won’t let go yet.
Can’t afford another Ragnarok.
I’ll hang on,
Perched in Orbit.
Waiting.
Harvest Away!
“They’re Harvesting Me For Parts. Plucking Symbolisms; Fits & Starts.”
