Covered in infant blood and angelic faeces, stalking through the crumbling ruins of Basileia, a putrid, odious disturbance in perfect balance of the primal void. A blind, sickening malediction with only one urge: to relentlessly grow its warm, bubbling pulp of life. What insolence does it take to consciously reject the Fall as the natural condition of Man? A monument of abhorrent revelations. The brightest fire of the Devil burns dimly as it lives and moves in those who know the Self as one... What a pityful spectacle, to witness the Finite cling to the supposed importance of their lives. And yet what a delight to Bestiae, the sparks of Infinity burning within the Disciples. Warm organic mud, degenerated descendants of Adam, enslaved by futile self-preseving instincts, faithfully bowing down to the crumbling illusion of hope... What disgusting, wormlike, humane pride does it take to reject a logical conclusion, acknowledging the faint hope of Christ while the Fall has already come in all its glory...Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
