Nilpulse

I hate you with all the fire& Of nine thousand throbbing suns& I loathe you with all the fury& Of the vast, dense, dark expanse of space& I rain shards of moons upon you& Terran platitudes drowned out in hail of plasma, acid, bile and graphite& These are the cold months& These are the solstices& Swelling with godlessness& Tendrils encircle the globe& Tendrils encircle the globe& Lacerate the astroamniotic sac& Leaking matter and immiscibles through the spiritual margins of existence& Behold: swarms of microorganisms& Cybernetic microorganisms descend& In tandem with tentacle& In tandem with tentacles& Ethereal maws a million in number& Gnaw portals and cavities in distant planes of chaos& Mothers breastfeed apostate embryos& And goodwill is engulfed by delusion.