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In my final act of putrid glory I abandon the chains of good and evil

For I have journeyed deep into the human psyche

And withstood misery untold to man

Will I return to an empty world? Have I become God?

If god is the face of vengeance and suffering… then yes.

In the art of pain and torture

I’ve claimed a throne

The sickening life I’ve swallowed

The dormant life I called, my own

I choked, I choked, I swallowed

A heroin-laced meal ticket, steering me

To drag hope off their perch and smother it in failure

Exterminate

My crippled children

O sancta simplicitas

O hail holy death

My crippled children, sun and moon

Will realign under blood red skies

In the valley of death and hopeless mourning

Their feeble cries now obsolete

A distant illusion of shadow scourge

A birch, buried, in oblivion