Commence with devoid mentality, at one with peaceful tranquility. Oblivious to life and reality, the void reveals.
Welcome to the…
Realm of psychological confinement. The nocturnal demons, they await for me, I lay there ignorant to the illusion of my pre lucid state.
The spirits dwell, the room concealed between the cracks of my mind, As nightfall slowly approaches, And when my consciousness will start to descend. I sense a disturbance in the air.
The illusive allurement of slumber draws near, As anticipation accumulates. What I perceive as an enchanting escape, From this entity takes an unforeseen turn to a nightmare made real. My lifeless body lays there paralyzed as I drift through planes of astral projection.
At one with the stars and moon, I whimsically tread between celestial currents and glide, Through the space and the nebula. Momentarily harmonious, The calm before the storm.
'Suddenly the sky turns black as I quickly descend into abysmal immuration.' I feel an instant weight upon my chest.
I look up to see two piercing eyes, gawking into my soul. Claws grasped so tight to my limbs. The room it grows cold, So bitter and fraught to behold.
Daunting demon face screaming at me. I am bound against my will. I let out a shriek but nothing comes out, The parasite clutched to my torso, continues to wail as I remain incapacitated.
The delusion terminates, as I jerk up right. Drenched, in my sweat.
I Look around to see nothing, but still this notional monster he taunts me. I twist and turn, dreading return of the creatures curse, haunting me while I squirm in angst. They're watching me from the shadows, eagerly waiting for my consciousness to slip.
Lie in the dark, the bleak encompassing me as I hide in the sheets. Clawing at me, the beasts barbed nails and slender teeth. I feel him, his grip tightens like a vice round my neck. The air getting thinner I feel closer to death, despite this creature inside of my head.
His darkness returns. Once again I am bound, from the flesh on my bones. I am one with the curse, let them be heard. Their voices are drowned, The constant wailing of the dead, deaths chorus of sound
His darkness returns.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
