LIVE REPORT: Toby Driver and Alora Crucible with Black Arrows at New River Studios, London
Does not my countenance resemble yours?
Does not my countenance resemble yours?
There is a ceaseless noise, ancient and horrendous.
To birth and release the darkness within.
Psychosomatic storm bursting the gates of memory.
A crypt of flesh turned to stone
I am the wind, who whispers what could have been.
Cascade of time.
There’s nothing like a cremation party.
She is patient, for I have eaten at her hearth.