Testo Human murmuration Archspire

Human murmuration

I was the first to discover what hid in those red windows.
The one I found there tried hard to survive.
A child riddled with teeth sprouting randomly
All over his body (except in his rotting mouth)
Was taken by us, to our lab.
Us meaning myself, as well as the assistants I had.
Instructing me of a mission through
A distant telepathic channel,
Running directly out from their compound and into my brain.
Referring to themselves as the A.U.M.
I was to bring the body back to my quarters
And await instruction.
Not an easy task, to transport it.
Strapping it down to a gurney I dragged it through the alley.
Unfortunate casualties noticed me.
An iron pipe. A broken bottle.
Or a jagged piece of brick or stone.
I should not continue to delineate this any longer.
At one point I had to fake my death
Until the witness made a close inquiry.
At that time I had to use the less effective
weapons that were born onto me.
With old teeth and leather hands,
I took an ear and then an eye.
I focused force around their skull
To keep the m mute during attempts
To yell for aid, until they fell.
A.U.M. made it painfully clear, I was to bring the body back
Or I would be forced to witness the drop of black again.
I cannot begin to describe
The horror of viewing this maddening drop.
For the memory bleeds to deep into my own
That the mere thought alone starts to unravel
My frayed reality.
Giving way to it's ominous ability to shape
And adapt my thought and vision.
It is beginning to happen now.
I finally have the body safe inside.

After the abduction, after the viewing of the drip,
A building had been left to me by relatives
Across the ocean that it overlooked.
Or so I was told.
Often I try to recall
What endeavours I pursued previous to this,
Yet to no avail.
That part of my memory blurs in my mind
Like a fresh painted canvas left out in a thunderstorm.
I watch through my window as it melts.
Fading all the memories I kept,
Only A.U.M. here.
They are conducting human murmuration.
From the liquid in his bones
They raise the dead to fly together.
I circle with them in the shroud.
The winged ones and I.
Falling off their wind, I waken
With unworldly castings burned into my eyes.
Intermittent logic in a daze of violent hyper gliding.
They are conducting human murmurations.
From the liquid in his bones
They raise the dead to fly together.
I woke from my dream on the floor of the factory,
In a nest made of black feathers that were alive.
Somehow every hollow quill had filled up
With the rotting child's living marrow.
Each one serving as a needle to inject in each new body.
In this nest A.U.M. made it clear,
I was to bring more corpses back to life
Or be forced to witness the drop of black again.
Every night while in fever I've taken
A new pallet of bone to vein to infect and release.