PST-Magnus

A knight in golden armor, blazing sword held high, With every dawn he rises, beneath the endless sky. Against the darkened forces, he stands both brave and bold, A sentinel of light, his story yet untold. Day by day, he battles, as shadows stretch and creep, The sun his only witness, while the world lies fast asleep. Each clash rings like thunder, a symphony of fate, In the face of chaos rising, he meets it with his hate. His sword ignites the heavens, a beacon in the night, With every swing and parry, he dances with the blight. The four dread riders gather, their whispers filled with dread, Yet he remains unyielding, where angels fear to tread. Like sunlight through the tempest, he pierces through despair, Each strike a radiant promise that darkness cannot bear. For though the night is endless and hope seems far away, The knight in golden armor fights on without delay. Through trials fierce and daunting, his spirit will not wane, For in his heart lies courage that no torment can

Figures lie in shadows deep, Their dreams a languid, endless sweep. Lethargy cloaks like a heavy shroud, In silence, they rest, unbowed. Time's hands crawl, a clock unwound, Each tick a whisper, lost and drowned. Moments slip through fingers pale, In stillness, echoes mourn and wail. Once-vibrant blooms now fade away, Petals droop in shades of gray. Neglect has seeped through roots and veins, A testament to dormant pains. Chains of comfort bind the soul, Fettered dreams exact their toll. In the grip of sweet despair, A prisoner of stagnant air. Still waters mirror vacant eyes, Reflecting thoughts that slowly die. Emotions trapped in silent streams, Flow gently into fading dreams.

In the depths of night, a curious soul did dwell, Drawn to secrets that none should tell. With fervent eyes and trembling hands, He sought the lore of forbidden lands. From shadows emerged a form most dire, A human shape with eyes of fire. Hooves for feet, a cosmic weight, Nyarlathotep, the messenger of fate. The seeker gazed, his mind aflame, Into the core of all that came. Stars collapsed, worlds did fade, Reality's fabric began to fray. Horrors undefined swirled all around, As cosmic truths began to pound. All existence, a dreamer's whim, Reality cracked, its edges dim. In shards of broken cosmic glass, He saw reflections come to pass. King and slave, rich and poor, Every version of himself, and more. Before the pitch-black form he fell, Begging for respite from this hell. "Make it stop!" he cried in vain, But silence answered his refrain. The figure pointed to the core, Where chaos slumbered evermore. A monstrous thing beyond all ken, The source of now, and what had

In twilight’s grasp, where shadows creep, I wander through the silence deep, With scythe in hand, I weave my way, To gather souls at close of day. I watch them dance in flickering light, Their laughter echoes through the night, Yet in their eyes, a hollow gleam, A fleeting spark of a forgotten dream. Oh, modern souls, so lost in screens, Chasing phantoms of what life means, You scroll through lives that aren’t your own, In pixelated worlds, you’ve overthrown. Do you recall the sunlit skies? The whispered winds, the lover’s sighs? Or have you traded warmth for cold, For fleeting likes and stories told? I see your hopes like ashes blown, In digital realms where seeds are sown; You’ve built your towers on shifting sand, And grasped at shadows with trembling hands. What great ambitions did you forsake? What passions dulled for comfort’s sake? In every click, I sense the loss, A heavy heart beneath the gloss. I gather you with gentle care, Each spirit woven with despair; Yet still I

Upon the table, a banquet sprawls, Overfilled plates, where the hunger calls, Grease-laden morsels, a feast for the eyes, Yet beneath the surface, the gluttony lies. Fattened swine in a corner sigh, Their bellies round as the moonlit sky, They wallow in excess, oblivious and grand, While shadows of hunger stretch across the land. The goblets brim with crimson wine, Each sip a whisper of pleasure divine, Yet as laughter dances on tongues so slick, The darkness creeps in, insidious and thick. Sugary temptations, like sirens they sing, Cakes dripping sweetness, each bite a cruel sting; Candied delusions that mask the decay, As I weave through your senses, leading you astray. Leftovers linger like ghosts on the plate, A testament to folly, to insatiate fate; Waste not just food but the value of grace, In every discarded morsel, I find my embrace. I am the fly that circles your feast, A harbinger of rot, of indulgence unleashed; With wings stained by nectar of pleasures once sought, I

Through hourglass veins, sand-blood flows, A cosmic ouroboros eternally grows. Devouring its tail in timeless grace, The serpent of moments coils in space. Seconds slither, minutes writhe, Hours shed their skin with every sigh. In cycles of dawn and dusk we spin, Caught in Time's scales, both loss and win. Fangs of future pierce the past, As present's venom courses fast. This sinuous beast, both cruel and kind, Swallows whole the ties that bind. Yet in its belly, memories swim, Digested dreams and hopes grow dim. Still we dance to Time's hypnotic hiss, Enchanted by its endless kiss.

In gilded halls, where shadows dance, A masquerade of empty glance, Where hearts are cold and smiles are fake, And souls for fame their essence stake. Friendship's bonds, a fragile thread, Woven not for warmth, but dread, Of falling from the social grace, That keeps one in the frenzied race. Oh, how we chase the fleeting gold, Our true selves bartered, bought, and sold, For what? A moment's hollow praise, A trophy life in gilded haze. Love, a transaction coldly made, With worth assessed and prices paid, Not asking, "Do you know what's right?" But, "What's your worth?" in harsh spotlight. The Hollow Dance Partners sought, not for their soul, But for the part they play, their role, In climbing ladders, reaching heights, Where loneliness still haunts the nights. Is this not life's first query now? "What's your job? Your wealth? And how Much can you bring to this affair?" Not, "Is your moral compass there?" We scorn the poor, yet envy wealth, Despise success, yet crave its

Gilded bones rattle in the hollow crown, Pearls choking a neck long decayed. Rats scurry 'round the miser's throne, Waiting for the fall, patiently arrayed. Coffers overflow with tainted wealth, A dragon-serpent guards with twin heads. Two-faced beast of infernal stealth, Devouring souls the grasping wretch sheds. Mummified hands clutch bags of gold, Riches can't forestall the reaper's song. In death's embrace, no wealth to hold, The greedy heart was empty all along. Everything touched turns cold and hard, A Midas curse of endless despair. Life withers, leaving naught but shards, Of dreams once bright, now stripped and bare. In the end, only silence remains, Where avarice once loudly screamed. The voracious void all life drains, Leaving nothing but the nothing it seemed.

Beneath a sky where weeping stars reside, We float in fetid mire, side by side. Our screams ascend, both shrill and dire, As hope recedes like dying fire. This pit, a maw of endless night, Engulfs us in its putrid sight. We swim in fluids thick as death, Our forms dissolving with each breath. The slime, alive, a pulsing mass, Caresses flesh we wish would pass. Its tendrils probe and grip and clutch, As we, like insects, squirm so much. From shadowed depths, they rise and loom, Grotesque, they crawl to seal our doom. With hooked appendages, they maul And drag us down beyond recall. Their claws sink deep in yielding skin, They rend and tear with gleeful grin. Our bodies, now their fleshy cage, Transform with pain upon this stage. Our bones contort, our muscles warp, Reshaped by torment's cruel art. They mold us, pulling limbs apart, Till we're but flesh, no longer sharp. Compressed and sealed, we form the shell, An egg of suffering and hell. Inside, the horror grows and spreads, A

Shadows crawl across decaying flesh, Whispers of the void caress the night. Putrid breath of cosmic indifference, Extinguishes hope's feeble light. From rotting wombs of forgotten graves, Abominations claw their way to life. Rebirth in agony, a cursed existence, Each moment cut by oblivion's knife. Writhing masses of corrupted souls, Dance to the rhythm of endless pain. Screams echo through eternity's halls, As sanity slips down the drain. Black stars pulse in a dying sky, Heralding the end of all we know. In this bleak rebirth of nothingness, Only suffering continues to grow. Madness reigns in this hellish realm, Where life and death have lost all meaning. Reborn into a nightmare without end, Forever trapped in cyclical screaming. The universe laughs at our despair, As we're reborn to suffer once more. In this dark carnival of endless torment, Hope lies shattered on the blood-soaked floor.