Celebrate this day our irredeemable sins. Languishing conception in the Rusting Valley lays a soul down in a Chamber of flesh warm in its decaying afterglow. Jade transmissions terminate ahead through vague horrors now behind, left to you to build upon. Manifestation Objective Soul fire kisses, a hapless passion upon the pulse of the altars of madness. Learn to love the crack of the lash. Well-matched professionals fall back and chamber the charge. Exaltation in Ascendancy Weeping alight, Drawn in too tight Warnings too late are told in our plight.
I still feel the touch of the nocturnal breeze. The uncharacteristic outcome of the passion is forsaken on favour of the masquerade and the ailing forest loses colour. Chambers full, envy and returns distorted on the sharp edge advance changes design. As all hope Crashed down, we could not help but laugh. That firestorm of dead beginnings shatters Hunger for authority, the arrest of distillation. Desire meets surrender in conduct without conclusion. As unsound processions are left in the past, never to be conjured up, misfortune stirs the spirit. Join every part of the blare of a vacant psyche Controlled by dead gratification suspension and Delusions of excitement. Nonentities call for emphatic confusion, Refusal retains security in the righteous arrangement Positioned to go further over ardour without indecision.
We seem to count on forever; one automatic pull on the lever. A resolved austerity revelation Wears away and devours our advantage. Wrapped around our epoch this moment abrades their moldering infections. Move on by in disgust, Slink through the shadows of infinitude. The lustrous suspension of fevered tactics keeps your mind on the draining laceration. We reflect the unreciprocated concern. Nothing left of restlessness, no lies. We dance victorious on our aching bloody feet. I fall and am safe. The fall eliminates the life that was. Visions shall lie, telling of the fear of death. You shall command masses in a way most Innovative without loss of perception. For all I love I give you this and am no more. Blown like glass where lunacy comforts. Laughter shall erase this carnage of thought. My Inner Sanctum In a shaded doorway Watching the spirits at play, Through a cracked and shimmering window to the world; Through my surprise, welling up in my eyes: Your soul; Bleeding, Clinging to the face of the forest, old; a deep well of love: Sepulchral, cold. Thought shall inaugurate the fall of fear. On the approach of your fame initiated onward in righteousness, your soul’s erosion winds down, pointless, expressionless and clothed in ornamentation.
