Rusty Killgod

        I can see it in the colors you describe,
      I can hear in the sounds you play with,
    I can smell in the salty sweat that cools the flesh,
  I can taste it in the blood of my cheek...

 As sure as I am that God made Man to make God make Man,
I can feel it, writhing and resting in agitation and concordance.

All Moons Are Strange. For Life is but a Dream.