They assume a different shape as they become aware of the cancer that eats at their flesh a revelation of death and life becomes more than just the pieces of dreams that it was in the beginning of this faceless creation
An anemone breathing
A cancerous wound
Tasteless in form yet faithful to all that it tastes it remains
Though it remains insatiable wasting its form on the flavourless aura of hatred
Born and bred in the incessant cesspool of neverness
It never preyed before it preyed on them
And though it hates them
It will remember them
