Infinitum

A thousand forceful winds breath their fateful air deep into my lungs; in exhalation their dirt-anchored nails seize my throat from within. From without, I am collapsed. Sweet elision. Somber refuge. Find me in hollow torpor, my bed the slate unclean, unwelcome, undying.

Possess me. Pour into me the hatred of the universe and make me your profligate example; unto the world my name is chained and dragged through mire and mayhem. Mortem, post mortem, infinitum.  

Molten chaos of ages and storms of hearts; hearts of rages and hate, hate and suffering. Bring daggers to my dinner plate. My tongue speaks razors already, cut deep and rotten in the moats of my barbed taste buds. I have no love in my heart nor leniency to meld my eyes with deceit.