It's raining all the time, but we like the rain",
said an old man looking down the incline
at a small city where many old rows of houses
lay stacked, cramped, out of the way, almost underground.

The stranger by his side just sighs.
This was to be his station for life.

"It's the middle of nowhere and no one
who is not down on their luck..."

And he believes that he never
should've come there.

But he goes in somewhere deeper,
despite his better self.

And he feels like nothing awaits there.
And he fears the streets will swallow him whole.
An endless stream of doubt crosses his soul.

And he wishes a way to escape
these entangled corners forevermore.

All the years of neglect have made
navigation unreasonable.

At the center, the air grows staler and he can feel
intuition's grotesque idols staring at him.

Overwhelming fear is rising, the doors are opening.
Damned and hungry apparitions as far as eye can see.

In a different state of mind
this could've been home and
we could've been friends.

State Of Mind

Pond Of Dreams

Formed in October 2021.

We play prog / doom metal.

State Of Mind

Errant Mind

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