Fresh Air

Breath of fresh air. Malodorous inhalation. My gaze beholden to the carrion landscape Distortion most vivid, is it clear I hallucinate? If mine eyes would seem playful It's only a trick, the game is shameful I sighed out with relief, ever too soon Am crushed by this exhale, weight of doom Foreboding, impending, to expect never ending My delusions are mine! There's no pretending Expectation is best when kept like a hostage To a deepest dark enchained, perhaps lost it Some place in the depths, twixt waves and the vibration Only hope I hold so high, to throw down to devastation What is valuable to me? The pricelessness of ROT Flesh is sloughing off from the body of this plane Decomposing refreshment, quench is naught Necrotic aspirations, breath of aneurysms on my brain...