poetic-sanctum

    “I was born of tainted blood and dark matter on a bridge of fire, collapsing in the decay of its’ dust… I was born of dirt, monstrous acts, and ruination of soul and remained what came after was a dark matter of assonance. Some say I came from nowhere, but that is exactly what I have believed in, ridiculed for my disabilities, my shortcomings, I was an easy prey for anyone at the spectacle. I have risen from ashes of the dead, of winds of long past, left for decay but I have expanded that darkness to resume a hemisphere of pride, of stars, of galaxies. If I rose from being dead, I presumed, was there any stoppage? To those who die in these dearths, just like me. Evolve if only for yourself. Evolve with rage and fire and ice. Become an Iron fist, Become Iron. Become the sun, Become the Dark, if only it keeps you alive. Set afire the bridges that broke you, set afire the lands that hurt you, set afire the souls that left you to rot. I wish to those who are born from the stench of such abyss, Lightening and Darkness and a wish that Blazing Fires fall short to vanquish you. I wish you Resurrection, And Rage, only to become invincible. Only to survive hell.”

    Channing M (via le-immorte)