segunda-feira, 8 de outubro de 2007

Pit 2

Sun is rising though the rain clouds still remain in the sky, covering all with the sublime darkness that enchants me, that casts a spell upon me and makes e cry as the rain drops from them. No doubt, they're the tears of the Gods, the blood that once circled pure and clean, now filled with sin and hate. My own blood, my own mind, my body and my soul, myself. I bleed for the humanity, I cry out for the unborn child of my wife of Earth, my lie and my sin, my dream and my destruction. My way into the Hell that I take on Earth, the loud-mouths and lies said by the filthy humans that know as much as rocks is the stairway into the never-ending pain and misery.
Stricken and imprisoned to the back of a monster, falling down upon the darkness, trough the mountains, trough the tears, into the river where I'll drawn, into the warm embrace of the fake smile of the Lady of the River, the mystic that follows her into the unknown, the enthralment in me, consuming, controlling my head and turning my power into my weakness. Unsavior of the hate in the cult of the fake gods, controlling, breathing, taking down all humanity into the pit.

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