Deadness arises from the smothering screams of sorrow.
Divulge, the stream of blood, drink from its mouth.
I am an arrow, piercing your heart, six gods and a curse.
Blasphemous my lambs, behold the mark of my saviour.
Leaving my thoughts, far from paradise.
The masses are losing life, a woeful sight.
Witness a culture of blood and gore, my lord beckoned from a folklore.
The time is now upon you and me,
death will set us free, death will now set us free.
A ceremony of departure ensues.
The third eye awakens, the god of muse.
Faces appear in the water and the night sky.
They beg to decipher the meaning of goodbye.
The mouth of torment has no teeth,
yet it devours all that can breathe.
Death brings a dark treat and a gift of curse.
A smile visits the god’s face, blissfully perverse.