"Walk with me" the howling wind cries desperately. Let it bleed. Lifeless, cold, delicate and frayed. Devouring the light and life within my veins.
"Prove thy faith by offering inverted penance" it whispers to me.

Blessed be the defiler, father of filth. Born of the shadows and unforgiven guilt. Blessed be the corruptor, mother of night. Whore of the shadows, devourer of light.

On tongues of deception, the word so divine.

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