Coiled embalmed. wretched face of evil. Lies sinned and furied, in spite of it's glory. All matters sewn into one prophet. I nail this one seed, and crawl back through it's onset.
Merry, you may be.. For I am the flesh in your tongue.. Create to yourself, images of these. Glass-eyed figures,. And expose to me, your skin. Whorish as ever..
You see a figure in the mirror. An eerie abstract figure. Eyes ignite, like cold blue fire. Now you know your future's desire. . The realm in which you've wandered.
Winter vision overlords!!!. The many serious dead-. Run through fields of pagan hate. In times of dust!. And no more will the reaper mourn. . And in last respect!!!.
I am the phantom you please to see. Oh, my precious. Come sleep with me. I occurred beside the magic pawn. Ominous, is this fading dawn. . I am the scenery, the one who smite.
Weak is your mind. And weak are your words. Destroyer of lives, ha!. I spit on your whorish ways. Your dearest lies are holy, yet undivine. . You shall stand petrified by the fierce pest.
Sweet scent colored these,. The realm of sweet snakes that tortured me.. If everlasting burdens should enter. Such, as the everlasting torment of hell..
Gates of madness. Gates of harm. I long for your endlessness. And to feel your blades. . Vast sceneries drenched in blood. A thousand fires that reek of death.
My heart sets afire the seas. The burning waves crush mountains of dreams. Eternal the fear of torture. Released damnation forever. . Come to my shores and I shall crucify your soul.
Attack. Crush all the sons of Christ. With our fierce and invincible might. Ah, this lovely sight I have waited for. Master of storms marching to battle.
Reaching for the last child of mankind. And its effort, in silence to stay purified. Tormenting, the fool won't survive. Slavery in hell for the weak and the mild.
So you've come for your vengeance. Hear - I think the crowd is silent. Of me you have dreamt. I have grown (I built my domain on your hate). Mock your words.
What erased this scenery. So that I could fancy ridicule over pity. And enrace whatever mocked the sky. Two hands made these hearts. That trembles before me.
A wind of ashes mixed awe and wonder for these. The yearner, the hallows, the specter and I. And the arrows pointed to the core. As songs are sung for the tender ones.
Sourceless, rythmless, heartless.. I scan the desert.. Since I, in my beasthood saw the dancers there.. As my hands, two tiny figures, came visible,. Like a carniver of flesh..