There are sea goddesses, around the world, each governing a section of the salty patchworks, in there, strangest things happen, miracles float, they get eaten by red sharks, divinity dies, angels born from whale rib cages.
There are people, cruel and fair, maiden and whore, truthful and deceitful, some hunger for black milk, some live dry dreams.
Then there are monsters, living inside our darkest denials, eating our soul, tearing the convenient half truths apart.
There are black depths, where tongues wither, where darkest desires become ravaged by the undead. Millions of screams, crying for a shot at second chances, just a little bit of catharsis.
Then there are me, millions of me, living inside sinew, bones and meat. Chosen by the dark masters of the same undead, joined by the million screams, living a second chances, eating away any catharsis.
Everyday i hunger as i get more, everyday i taste the despair and yearn for more chances.
Life after life, soul after soul.
Now i wither behind million screams, eating my sinew, my bones, my meat.
And have i got a story to tell you. Yes.
I have a story, a hell of a story, especially about hell.
And i ask one thing in return, pass me that cigarette, in return, i will tell you a real story worth million screams.
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