“A million moutains.
An endless ocean of suffocating clay.
Eons upon eons of crushed muscles and torn sinew.
The same step repeated at every moment, every location, on the ground, under it, in the air, and within the soul,
forming an all-encompassing wandering and an all-encompassing doom.
This is the weight of Self.”

Cult of Gnezom, Psalm for the Dead


I’m almost sorry to post this one.