The Black Antlers - The Moth Gatherer

Recurring relentless patterns

Black antlers from the king

Deep in vortex of thoughts

Carving anxiety from the abyss

A hook through astral planes

A vessel pending in between

Hallways of bones and memories

Gold reversed in my palms

A house of bricks and cancer

Is always flickering inside

Traverse the consciousness

Sterile vanishing, leave no trace

In here with me

Nothing but the bitter weight

Of memories

A nest of splinters

Making to escape