Children of Decadence Cycle

 Axis J

Сhildren of Decadence walk the Axis J,
Where shadows bloom and angels rot away.
Their boots leave echoes in the rusted dusk,
Each step a hymn, each breath a husk.

They do not speak—they only hum,
A dirge of kingdoms long undone.
Their eyes are wells of tarnished glass,
Reflecting ruins of the past.

The Axis J, a line unseen,
Drawn through the marrow of the obscene.
It tilts the world, it bends the light,
It births the plague, it feeds the night.

And still they march, in velvet chains,
Through catacombs of gilded shame.
Children of Decadence, crowned in sin—
The end begins where they begin.


Axis X — The Horizontal Exodus


They do not rise.
They drift.
Children of Decadence,
now exiled to the Axis X.
No ascent, no fall—
just the endless crawl
through corridors of rusted grace,
where mirrors forget your face.
The Axis X is not a path—
it is a sentence.
A line drawn by the hand of silence,
where angels wear asbestos robes
and whisper in hexadecimal.
Here, the light is sideways.
Here, the clocks bleed left.
Here, the throne is a mattress
stuffed with expired prayers.
They walk it still.
Not to arrive,
but to remember
what it meant to be vertical.