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 evilly 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.

No

As my poisoned Shadows broke in two from the Zodiacal

Light and only farther 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.