Who do you think you are, and what will you be?
Chattering skeletons with their broken teeth and empty eyes
Chitter endlessly with neverending questions
That have no concievable answers.
I am that which needs no explaination.
I am an anomaly, abbhorant, effulgent, and godlike
Dancing through dimensions with constellations twirling
Through my fingers and beneath my feet
I whisper the nothingness to worlds beyond comprehension.
I write to watch the moths flutter out from my heartsongs
And to smell the air becoming heady and intoxicating,
Heavy with the weight of my words.
Like the pied piper, I call for you.
Will you not come to me?