Something something LESTER BEAM
POV: You're a fly on the wall that's just been shot violently with a flamethrower (or whatever the hell was used) that the former god of the sunlight thinks is mesmerizing enough to talk to in his last moments of roasting alive. Some unconscious part of you is aware that it's supposed to be 'poetry' but it sounds a bit more like 'mmhmmh mmhn mm mm mmmn mmm hehe'












