Gothika: Honor & Horror
Forcefully born of the occult into rags of filth
with a brumal ebony heart like love drizzled in frigid tar
and boreal blood, I was concocted as a cadaverous cannibal
from the cauldrons of the luminously forsaken.
They were never liars, just numinously mistaken.
This plume of human life blemishing the earth deserved to die,
and so I killed them with the carnalism they raised into me.
Now I stride silently, hand in hand with loneliness and infamy.
But I breathe honor, for these crimes of men
were heroic deeds of nature and god.
Still, the banes of my being burn whispered lies
of opulent covenants
into the hair of my neck.
Background created by me specifically for this poem.
The title font is called "Draconian Typewriter".
The text font is called "Aerofoil".