God Is Dying

The gods are dying and ghosts are rampant. Can you see things that others can't? Can you sense an unusual smell? What are those things lurking in the darkness in the streets and alleys? The moon hangs upside down in the sky, and the empty teasing eyes in the corner. Who is mourning in the sky? Who is the giant black figure in the fog? Weird, confusing, abnormal. The huge lair, the ghost in the mirror, the eyes filling the sky, the severed limbs under the bed. Vibrations from the ground, gazes from heaven. The mysterious kingdom of black and blood, the mysterious bones buried in the stars. The world will be reduced to ruins. I am walking in troubled times, closing my eyes and seeing the whole world clearly.