About Contact Siteroot


Come. Step up to the edge.
The veil. here. The borderline.
Between reality and madness
Look across.
Can you see me?
I'm standing on the other side
can you tell what side you're on?


We come
So near
yet stay
so far
we are
the things
that go


Crystalline spires reach up from the icy plains
lightnings play at their tips
the fields writhe and twist
casting their shadows elsewhere
nitrogen stone vapors flow about the shadow
as it takes on form.


Where: scantily-clad agents of unnatural forces place a pumelo upon the altar.

As: you writhe under the ministrations of aethyric tentacles

When: the chains shatter and the prisoner awakens from its ancient slumber

In: that place where dreams become reality.


he sits on the cliff
tosses a rock with his toes
blue fire adorns his claws
a cold wind blows his hair


Walking the twisting ways
as the portents flock like crows
is it worth the effort
to weave the new path?
or better to fall
follow the old ways
the meshwork grows
and nobody sees
seeds planted in vacuum
will water come
to revive the slow walkers?