Museum of Decay

I crawl around inside your moist texture
Lost inside your broken womb, the aroma of a stale gutter warms the back of my throat, I decided I needed a break so I climbed inside your prism, fetal decay all telling their story's a warm embrace of a preserved vision, you carry this story to all that whither away in the shadows you cast, it's time to leave this cradle, I crawl towards the glimmer in my eye and reach for the stars through your wide open mouth