Why do you weep child? Has the Earth been so terrible to you?
If that is true then you are weak, for the world is nothing but a speck,
And you are a singular droplet of water bound to dissolve,
Whatever your deeds are your soul will be forever lost and tortured,
And you shall never know the subtleties of beauty the Earth provides
Out of all the madness humanity has forged from itself.
Your soul aches for another droplet that does not desire you.
You truly are weak, and if you torment yourself like this forever,
You shall fall deep into a dark world. Let me show you this realm born
From the womb of all humanity’s madness.
O Aching Soul, come now with me to the Viscera of Chaos.
After the hag whispered to me with a voice of daggers,
She thrusts her left hand into her gut and pulled out her bowels,
With those she made a single leash and tied it around my neck,
It felt cold and wet like a squirming skinless snake.
The journey begins as she hovered backwards pulling me,
And all come to darkness as though I am blind until I hear wails.
I see a gate in a shape of a foul mouth, wrought of forsaken souls,
Every wail is a plea for freedom but every shred of ignorance
Is a rivet that holds them to the rusty beams of insanity.
I touch a soul and my nail falls like a leaf in autumn.
The hag shrieks and my eardrums quake like a dancing mountain,
And so the terrible wailings stopped. Silence and calm.
As the sky darkens into a vast ceiling of nothingness, the gate opens.
I see a majestic courtyard strewn with ruins of ancient structures,
Citadels and temples that have been destroyed not by earth,
But by the flesh of doomed mortals. Thousands of them are beating
Walls and columns with their own limbs and heads for an eternity,
And their blood, unnatural as the skin of rotten apples never cease
To stop gushing from their cuts and wounds. The hag hovers and
Pulls me into the courtyard, as I shiver with fear to see these pitiful
Souls tormenting themselves, as though my eyes are being squeezed
By a pair of invisible hands with nails sharp as the jagged teeth of sharks.
We have not entered the Lair of Delirarus yet and your eyes hurt?
Pull yourself together weakling, this is the courtyard of slaves,
Mere mortals who enslaved themselves to their own desires.
Her voice is harsh as if porcupines are struggling to escape her throat,
And so I let myself to see the courtyard, though it torments me to do so.
I look at one soul, a maiden it seems whose skin has eroded,
Like white stones in the mountains. Every crack of her flesh glows
With the red of blood as she incessantly chokes her nostrils with
A marble finger of a fallen statue. I weep at the sight of her torment,
For her face is blank like a clear canvas but with eyes black as void.
Behold! A great citadel that stands upon a mountain of bones,
It pierces the darkened sky like a worm digging through a corpse’s flesh,
There appeared to be no windows or doors, just a titanic structure,
Made of living flesh and organs.
The Viscera of Chaos is the kingdom of Delirarus,
The eloquent deceiver of mortals, the lord and lady of contorted lust,
The ravenous eater of joy, and the nefarious tyrant of madness.
It is Delirarus that you shall meet, from whom you shall know your place.
