ExitingARM

Exiting arm;
The pit and alabaster ascension.
To cut out the middle mind and dine,
To dine on the nectar hard,
To dine on royal oil of arm.
And resign the simple engine of your fears to time…
And resign your slight regime to time.
A you immune,
to the gross and grow cold of what you know prose,
What your know won’t sow.
Exiting arm;
The pit and alabaster ascension.
When last we left Hour Hero, Yes;
Left one part endless-
Two parts death.
‘cause it’s tell fright and all light
To a soft right angle of good man.
And from one keep to another,
You left with what you there’s left,
Honest, in a skin-thin armor
And the wild of guess.
Blood swapped with breath
(Not ghost not dead not)
To separate yourself from your effects
And to evacuate one’s sturdy flesh.
Would you skin your skull to draw its strength?
Oh no you’re way to goner for that.
Would you swallow a lie to disinfect your angst?
Oh no you’re way to goner for that.
Would you razorblade redecorate your arm?
Oh no you’re way to goner for that.
Would you freeze a lake shut to steal you (some) calm.
Oh no you’re way too far gone…
Exiting arm;
The pit and alabaster ascension.
When last we left Hour Hero, Yes
He was one part endless;
Two parts death...