Deciphering the Cruel Lamentations of Oxford Monstro

     At our core we are all snakes.  Teeth to tail.  Bits of bone and nerve, ever straining to coil back up.  It is the duty of a righteous man to never let the world twist him and also never to twist the world in turn.  The circle is unending, but spirals always end in The Pit.

     And when that dense, mossy sponge of life breaks apart and returns to the stars the white and wicked who ever hid from the flame will spend eternity searching for light's ghost.

     Speak softly of that which is true, for demons slither through light spilling fermented love on every smooth bit of firmament.

     The only true reincarnation is energy filling the void.  Look to the bats and honor the spiders.  Snakes hide from the light and live only to consume.

When met with evil know that no cruelty is justified as that poison you spill will fill every crack and hollow within your frame until it begins to drip upon the pure who gave you their trust.

Ghosts like white spiders on an overcast day.

You can't see a ghost until you are close enough to breathe it in.

A ghost is a memory lingered upon for too long.