I ascend towards the fire depraved of coiled roots that bind me to the earth from a decaying crown of light. Disheveled veils secure your sin and mine. Lower your head and close your eyes. Bathing in the waters from the barren breath of god to drain the excess wind from flooding lungs. I feast upon white flames until my tongue is black and raw, unraveling a rope of sin I've spun. Hell is a reflection of myself branded in the skin of those I love. Dead weight will hang in the absence of the warmth of setting suns, like kindling to set my will ablaze. The days grow dark and long like shadows distorted and worn to pick the locks of heaven's gate should I arrive. My body as your crown confined to heads of godless kings. My hell is me.