Byzantium

Overwatch in slow motion. Translating into a disease of ages. And when god came for me, I got my gun and waited... putting pain to skin, recording memories in my afterbirth. I scribe the grudges of aeons to what I am and carry the guilt of a world as the speaker for the dead. As I hurt myself, I hurt you.

Enveloped By your sun, I unleash this single bullet that calls itself God. I blame everything, I blame you, and thus myself. fractured, your pain becomes the sinew that gives this world motion. And as the white envelopes all, my name will undertake this stillbirth of stars. Crossing your red lines into our messy pallets of grey. And the rose-madder will consume...

CLOSE YOUR EYES SINNER!!!!