Flagellating your pale cold skin,
|
I desire for more
|
Beholding those deep bleeding wounds
|
I wish I could return you back to life
|
To start my feast all over again...
|
|
Whip bleeds my own skin now fiercefully
|
I expect the pain, although it passes away
|
Leaving me in utter bitterness
|
I await the night, when I may spread my wings
|
And reach the skies far above the wooden pantheon...
|
I await the night and the storm it brings
|
To conquer these lands of pride and joy
|
To blacken their souls and deprave their minds...
|
|
I'm true and faithful servant of those
|
Who came here long before the earth was born
|
I'm their messanger and archangel
|
Condemned to dwell behind these burning gates
|
Of sullen silent spheres...
|
|
I know not if I'm a vital being
|
But it should be so, since I scent the honied blood of females...
|
I lick them, rape them, slaughter them...
|
Wretched pathetic humans...
|
|
I make them weep, make them shriek and ask forgiveness...
|
Seeking delight in pain and suffering, oh so sweet...
|
|
[whisper:]
|
When sun sets beyond the snowy mountains
|
And wolves howl at the fullmoon
|
Crescent skies tumble into glowing shade of agony,
|
So bizarre...
|
|
The shadowy inmaterial spectres invite me
|
To join their exalted hellish dance
|
The night blackens with storm, breed by Ancient Ones
|
And I lust for their return more than ever before...
|
|
-----------------
|
... Of Shadowy Exaltation (When Night Blackens With Storm)
|
| Rossomahaar |
