Caligula

at this point i've gotten used to everything i say being disregarded, all one-sided, no interest, i say too much anyway,

but he still screams. He still claws at his flesh, patches in his fur littering his body, he begs for you to listen because he has something to say. Come close. Closer still, quietly, listen, he has seen things beyond your comprehension and he has felt a primal fear beyond what the simple draconic mind could ever begin to experience, and he's come to share it with you, for your salvation. He's a priest whose teeth chatter in his waking moments and whose head shakes in his sleep. His claws are frigid, so cold like those of a carcass, he's come to spread his love, and his love is spoken like nails, he feels it so radiantly, so brilliantly, so vividly, for each and every soul dead, empty, or alive in this god-fearing land. Wild-eyed, empty-eyed, his face smarts to no emotion except terror; his claws are open, always, inviting, welcoming, starving. Dried blood stains his mouth and his eyes are bloodshot, dehydrated, he drinks both his saliva and his tears, and he never stops whispering, for the sake of your salvation.

Beloved blue eyes, he wanders, he lurks, he hums heavenly, choked, raw hymns of abominations and nonsense, nothing real and nothing true, ripped from the tattered, rotting fabric of his being and his depravity.

feel no connection to ANYTHING


BRILLIANT art by aloevera thank you so much!!