An Obsidian Perception

I am but a carcass Animated remains, an abandoned husk. I've been embellished with illusions of life. I am but a fictitious conscience All my interpretations obscured by this ebonized veil. My perception is twisted, All morals are rotten mistaking grace for animus. Like viscera, seeping from a wound. It rises, tainting my eyes. I am blinded by hatred. I am but a carcass Animated remains, an abandoned husk. I've been embellished with illusions of life. I am but a fictitious concept. This slimelike mire bleeds, crying onyx tears. My visions are impure. with a nebulous gaze. Somehow these unconscious mortals become shadows. They are obstacles. Now against a blazing partition, My kin have now become indistinguishable. Beyond a crimson screen, my salvation. My privilege. I am tormented. I am purposeless. Aimless, I have found myself locked in this prison: My body, my confinement, a carapace. My skin, it burns whilst perspiring black tar. Draining all what is left of my humility. Suddenly it has become all so clear. Epiphany, a prophecy, a realisation. My task, a route to simplicity, my purpose. My arcadia, my salvation. An inquisition to purify this obsidian perception. My escape from this infernal prison. I must dismantle these obstructions that lie in front of me. I must eradicate this army of silhouettes that stand in front of me I am but a carcass...

Submitted by Corpse Grinder — Nov 13, 2025