Transitions -

The shell rots away, metamorphosis complete.

What now remains is

unrecognisable.

Weep, for this is the end of it all.

Internally you have

changed, external transformation.

The new abomination is staring back at

me.

These transitions tear us apart, we prepare for war.

I will wash my

hands of this.

We must all, cleanse ourselves.

Until you die.

We bury the

dead alive.

I’ve been listening to these voices, inside my head.

They’ve

been telling me to take no more.

Departures, disasters, destruction of

souls.

You specialise in these trades, now I must…