Damnation Through Design

One Sense Too Much

Compositor: Não Disponível

Arsonists ablaze! This wick of demure graves
Burden their eyelids to succor them astray
"Come to me, ye vile miscreants,
be it coalesced with flame.
Relinquish now, thine survival,
heed my voice that reverberates.
Whisk along vast asafoetida,
as it deftly ventilates.
Dubious shalt none dare be,
fathom that death eventuates."
A gondola nascent through mist thick of saturnine.
Unto the shore of Acheron.
Those with obolus qualified a ride.
Believe 'twas Charon,
who's set sails to the gulf below
Who kicked for disembarkment,
as hewn sinews nevermore tied to meadows.
So commenced to where the perished is abundant and galore!
The water carries acrimonies and unsung sighs.
Whilst callous wind howls, the trees, wearily cry.
Crooning was the gondolier a hymn, lucifugous, of the dead.
In him sorrow displays ever iniquitous and maleficent.
Two colossal monoliths, so macabre.
and gates ov lone and lorn, set to always remember.
Slowly but lithe, a grin has he carved as from afar stood the glory of vehemence.
Where only the nefarious ones therein beheld ajar.
Lo and behold! the underwold!

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