opaque, misunderstandings of life

underground not normal or is surface not normal. Born in the pit, the belly of eternal waste was my home of eternal pain sorrow, worry. I learnet to kill, feed, devour, torment play and finaly savour. the existence of mortals was not a thing to be thought of. The elders brought them during festive seasons. Cracking, breaking, shattering their limbs was a favourite game to us as young eternals. We were superior in mind and body. Lest we hae mercy on our food we fail to exist in our element. Our skin needed their blood, our eyes needed theirs, our hands what hands , without them we were imobile. Our existence was unto them, as their survival was a must. Like sheep, cows yes sheep (some creatures i saw in my second journey to the mortal world) we take them as. Love what is love they talk it they experience it, but for less than a breath time aoooooohh i was told we were the only ones that they were dum. Could not see the supernatural. What we see is insanity and sudden death to them. My Other is a monster to them. She eats them whole, has a face that eminates froth of the undicourse dungeon of macath. A gift she at be, her embrace is the burning of an eternal birth. Her cold is better than shakoths heart in time of retrubution............ to br contnd