literature

Cannibal God

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Literature Text

A beast of cancerous tumor and mindless hunger!  A bloated and sick Ouroboros!  The eternal cannibal monstrosity!
No grace in its formless mass, no sense in its maddened cries and terrible roars! No beginning and no end to it. It contracts and flows as its feeds on itself, it feeds on everything and it feeds on nothing!
It heaves and consumes! Rivers of blood gush from its pustule covered mass as it feeds! New tendons stretch and grow at the same time! A vast portion of the Eternal One's grey and mottled mass rot and decay with disease at any given time. It roars its rage at the uncaring world! It gibbers with pleasure as it eats its own flesh and quivers with misery and agony! What fools are they who try to find sense in it!
It is the twisted parasite who feeds on itself.  A titanic daemon birthed from the primordial ooze of the stars themselves. A great Beast vomited into abominable existence by the whim of the cruel gods or the vagaries of freakish fate!
The stink of sweat and misery of the flesh it devours mixes with the stench of rotting blood and madness of the beast itself. Caverns are woe in its entrails inhabited by ghoulish humanoid forms clothed in their own dripping flayed skin.
Hateful things with too many arms and short legs, cannibal things with obscene and bulging pus weeping orbs like saucers of rotting milk for eyes, hateful creatures untouched by light who feed on the Great one itself!  Their numbers only kept in check by their mutual savagery and the insane metabolism of the beast. Oh how they crawl in its innards, their existence as mindless as that of the Great Beast itself!
Moment by moment dozens of the inhuman kind are crushed by a muscle spasm or thrown about like broken dolls just for the cannibal titan to heave breath, a ragged breath for a hateful roar of despair at the uncaring cosmos!
An immortal being! Whatever life or purpose it once held has been wiped away by millennia of self devouring insanity.
Its one vast and rheumy eye, the only organ or tissue not devoured or regrown, has not stopped rolling in insane hunger, pleasure, agony and desperation long before man's ancestors crawled on their bellies from the sea.
Oh to stand within its insides and navigate its entrails! Ribs yellowed and weeping filth hold up the erratically pulsing roof.
The air is dark and hot and the smells rich and choking. The hum of its mindless life felt through the soles of the feet!
To stand before its pulsing malformed heart! To feel its eternal boom reverberate in oneself! To drink from its polluted holy blood!
Mind journeys of a Heretic Saint
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