A Proclamation of Inward Observation

Angry Arsonists aren't able to scorch my skin.

But when we bicker my blood boils within.

Crooked spines and calloused hands make this man.

Don't worry soon I'll make my stand.

Everything must evolve is the motto, although I grow when I wallow.

Fanatically foraging for fragments, forged in flames of magic.

Gradually grotesque the more it grows west where guilt goes to fester.

Harmony awaits those who see heaven's gates within, so begin to be as one don't dismember.

I signed up for this even if I don't remember, I'll suffer and shine till we are back together.

Just temporarily I'm here so stay clear of worldly souvenirs.

Knowledge is what I need, so let me feed, please.

Leave me to my research cause these words will echo like reverb.

My time is now, I'm proud of mouths that speak aloud.

Never mind the drought, close your snout if you utter doubt.

Obstreperous and unruly I once was, until I looked within instead of above.

Priggishly prudish is the prideful man.

Quite the chaos when you bite the hand.

Rightfully so if you frightfully woe.

Sorrow's seductive speech lures those who fear waking beasts.

Troughs filled with failed dreams for feigning demons to finally feast.

Unified fields wield the wheel that turns my fear into swords of steel.

Visions are vague but innate in vaults as ancient as clay.

Worry no more, for I am no whore to worldly chores that distract many lords from reaching divine shores.

Xeric is the land where flowers seize to grow from the lack of a feeding hand.

Yearn for that feeling when it comes it'll show, just ask the trees, the seas, or the mountains, they'll know.

Zero is plenty, for in the nothingness nothing feels heavy.