Apoptotic rot

Behind two eyes during the lower sessions I sank.
Dark hole, head first again.
Unpleasantly dripping, internally exploding.
Feeling the same as usual, I rupture identical.
The ugly skies surrounded and laughed, though never like the pretty faces passing in smiles.
Ugly skies surround and piss.
Senses melt inside pride, melting happily again.
Of course hymns will call in nervous measures.
Sooner, head first - licking the razors.
Quite content among such blood and politely accepting the gift.
So ugly skies surround and crush.
Then pretty faces fuck in smiles.
He[a]re the angels continue to burn.