Your fevered form an animated knot of sinew and bone. The hallowed pyramids above moan as you writhe. The triple gates wail obsidian. In the benighted gloom beyond my third vision.
My mask of principle and virtue built from gain. I drop it only in the presence of my peers and prey. You think you found yourself here?
An ablution of feces mixed with piglets blood drains from your cunt. A douching more than fit for livestock such as you. You think you found yourself here? You were required so I had you brought!
You're no stranger to paternal abuse. Those ministrations knew nothing of terror. So see here, watch me open the air before I open your skin.
I have methods to sustain you, on our journey to your expiration. This was never going to be brief. Your suffering, endemic to The Great Work at hand.
Fury! Marking my place in the pages. With the blade I favour for exhuming flesh. Cansha Om Pacsha! Your servant! Oh Void! The fogs coalesce with the ascending red. The fogs coalesce with the ascending red.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
