Frigid barren night, reflecting your spirit’s blight, Virulent soul’s delight, rendered null from baleful might. Quickening doom’s excite, speechless words of untold fright. Squealing words of spite break ground at your grave site. Sleep now child, beseech me no more. Your sheepish blood will soon flow, and my knife shall soon bore. Leering over, you shudder, insidiously caught in my grips. Your vacant venomous heart, malice greets and soon rips. Slovenly voluptuous whore, how my vivacious blade Serenades your skin with such glee, as flesh parts In its crimson cry. Fat bursting through your gaping wound As the blood caresses, sliding down draining Into your mouth, curdling your choked cries. Rancid walls of rotting death surround bile and blood dripping. Spewing forth it’s corrosively corrupt blackened waste, burning charred skin to bone. Waves of fear penetrate your naked virgin soul. Raping every last safe bastion of mind, heart and spirit, Drowning in an ocean of regurgitated Rotting body parts. The air heavy, Breathing liquefied fat, burning your lungs. Ears bleed from the deafening roar of the faintest whisper. There’s no better way to die then by my hand! I lay claim, my morass victory, hear my beckon lust for my command! There’s no better way to die then by my hand! Filleted,your body’s tingling; your blood cleanses the sands! Let the blood flow, as it kisses my feet! Worship me for I am the true God, all others are false to me! Thou shall not suffer a whore to live; she maketh a pit of her wombTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
