Coven of the Larynx

The larynx croaks inward devotion. An existence hewn from varicose flesh. Palatal tones pass dimly outward from a slurred and careworn wretch's mouth. Bereft of love, self inflicted. The molded image of a crippled whelp. Marked with a benign crow's foot and wallowing in placidity. and from the same loam, I was borne and cut. A wicked lich, spiraling senseless. Caustic pariah. Pitch smeared visage. Boring through you.