PLOT
I Have Become The Punished Carcass Of Consequence, My Truths Dissolve Upon Your Lonely Passage, Where Love And Loss Combine And Birth Grief. Time And Thought Are Slipping From My Grip, Crimson Consumption Looms Within False Approvals, My Future Is Inescapable, My Future Is Confinement, I Exist For The Sole Purpose Of Reaching That Future With The Knowledge Of My Death In Its Contorted Caress.