Anal Pus Splashing

Anal Pus Splashing

I was walking through the forest of the dead

With trees frozen as if with horror

In the cold mourning

The shapes were growing clear

Of some gallows on which

The most wanted fruit hanged: a corpse

A gentle breath of wind was singing fath his obituary

Then a woman in black comes near and sucks his anus

with fear

The black ritual of revival took place right before my yes,

Anal pus splashing is the secret of soul monopolization

The witch swept her mouth with pleasure

And the hanged open wide his eyes

To see the cold mourning together with it's unclear shapes