The Vestige Decay

A simple prose.

A thin white veil, a thin white veil; it envelopes you, covers you, surrounds you. To break free of this worldly prison, to tear forth like a glorious, putrid afterbirth, would release you from this pain. Eyes shut, carmine lips parted. An exhalation. Is it too much, this agony rolling inside like a black torrent, ready to burst forth from your extremities?
Shall you tear the veil, silver glinting in the soft light of the nighttime luminaries? Cut through soft flesh that binds you to the corrupt ground where monsters shamble along! Let crimson spill forth and stain the alabaster, let serenity come upon you.

Breathe

Breathe

Feel my cold hand on your trembling shoulder.

Breathe

You are alone no more...