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World of Past Lives
As flight of this day unfolds,
Joining the festival of death,
The sweet sorrow song of sirens,
Invigorate as flesh becomes sacred,
Dripping sin of jealousy evolves,
I grip the ledge of sanity,
My fingers ripped off the bone,
Stumbling downward to the pit,
My vision forever gone,
The nightmare of eternal,
Darkness and integrity,
Of the horror's witnessed,
In the mansion of the anarchist,
Hooks of meat or humans,
Piles of skinless flesh flap in peace,
The autumn wind of fever,
Sweeping mist of cemetery,
Inviting lines of necromancers,
Asking to be their guide,
To the flagrant ways of past,
To be their puppet of actions,
Forever serving their cause,
Death and misery awaken the night,
The moon full as songs are heard,
From wolves and beasts alike,
This night of fantasy unfolds my path in life,
Abducted from society, placed inside the Earth's womb,
Contracting and convulsing,
Spasms in this darken shrine,
Convicting and conceiving crime,
Guilty time for this fearing world,
Existence of the darkened heart,
Feed the armies of the damned,
Destruction of the righteous way,
The fall of God and mortal man,
This evening time of giving head,
As the climax reaches, death will take,
Choking and sputtering cum,
As they suffocate on their life,
The seed of new life destroying old,
Path that unfolds, as we travel on,
Biting my spiteful tongue,
Undergoing the rituals of the dead,
As we push for conservation,
In need of time and diplomacy,
Ripping out the jaw bone in search of truth,
Collective skins to masquerade,
Self-indulgence to masturbate,
Reliving the sins of man,
Dismantling the limbs of our kin,
In search for a word that will not exist,
To be intertwined, mixing of the ethnicity,
Still hating all that aren't like us,
Death knows no color or age,
Just the sweet aroma of blood and souls,
As walk down the isle,
The path of fate and past,
We kiss the tears of repremised days,
Carving our names through history,
In languages of forgotten times,
Enjoying the scent of demise,
As the past is the future,
Suffering and disease,
Now we must behold a sacrifice,
The children of the times,
Locked forever from danger,
No freedom to express themselves,
Nor be an individual,
Bleeding liberals in control,
Fighting for their children,
While they hate and spite them,
Never knowing why they misbehave,
Family time is an ancient ritual,
Used by only those who care,
Parents with blood-stained hands,
As their seed embarks on a death march,
In the halls of the damned,
Killing the innocent,
For they fear no evil,
Starving for attention,
As they know no punishment,
Dirty, stained for life,
Knowing no true responsibility,
Slaughter for the fads of tomorrow,
Never to evolve past solitude,
As the wheel of the axis turns,
Turning the future to a Nazi régime,
Through thought and appearance,
Faceless groups of people march in line,
Hating all thoughts of new,
Beating those who will not follow,
That can think on their own,
That corruption to follow through,
Failing all we have worked for,
So they can mass and die,
Falling to the pit of endless darkness.
