Psyche Delectus: M Ear

From the cenote he rises,

dripping with glacial ancient sorrow. 

In the deepest grotto,

He lifts up 

from those still forgotten waters.

Unknown to the abodes 

of the moon and the sun

he bears a malignant scowl 

at the burning intrusion of light.

He leans in close that we may hear

the wet croak of his whisper:

 

"I am the untended hurt 

of all your days.

I am the weeping foundation 

of your every footstep.

I am the wound 

that dreams you into being!"

 

 

 

 

Recommended Listening:
Pilotpriest
Title 

from Come True Score

{Digital Images manipulated in Adobe Photoshop}