Devilcrazy God thirteen

I am not only a color

but lately 17 and 3

As the 11th will eventually die.

Time is brief and never longer

therefore I allow my shoulder to bury

and all my fingers line one by one

Then I can deny the black hole

and deeply fold in a chasity of insights

Next time we listen to your blood

and it results in the sin of my strangled sprat

as half watch the loud pitch laugh in your vicinity

And the evily humored temptation tarnish fruit-bearing Suicide

My saddle will skid no further into tomorrow

And in 1955 the dead will die in the infernal oblivion

of my own domain

However, we won't conquer like Erinnyen in page two

but rather stalk our soulless nature

in 3 shades of grey

To Caress a delusion sometimes causes a peculiar presence

which behaves how a deeply sunken razor would sound in blood

and consequently our echos let a glow in the breastless Bestiarium.

As my poisoned Shadows broke in two from the Zodiacal Light

and only further a displeased death of the struggling odoring

Shock of a horned blade in the perfection of Animalistic Lust

Decorating itself in a disgusting Vesture

Bacchanten Climbed Icy Abysses

yet, it won't Bring Forth the tender damnation

Necessity to breed is blinded by the Oviparious yearn for death.

And those not against God & Lucifer are suspicious

A dissolute force highhandedly requires danger

When Death Rings for several luckless Maids

Bluish Anarchy will instill over the Gates of Naked lust

Only an elder enrichment of the boiling-points to forgive my life

Will the Blasphemic Origin contribute to all the Graven Feet of the downfall.