Testo Bled Dreams

Follow,
The nails blood trail as another falls from scriptures call.
And even beasts bow in defeat at the summons of the fall. This feeling crushes
reason like the dark insight. while the sun to scared to rise is burning from
inside.

Alive, the dark insight. Nothing cannot die. This time you forced it open, to
see ruined our ancient muses. Nothing can be as sacred as the fight. For your life in this night vampiric spirits shift in sight. A darkened gloom
pulls down the room but the moon it seems so fucking bright. In my mind the
light it binds my sight to visions of forgotten rites. Where in there was
something no one could deny that the flames would burn my soul.
Time takes it's toll, death unfolds.
As a right, as the the light limits that in plain sight. The coming cold
forever yearning to be told amongst the desperate masses cries. Their gutted
lullabies. their meaning has but died.

Now it's dampened the hue you can't see through. When worshipped in two the
daemon's die to. Though the pieces seems alike.
Never enough, never to rough the thrust of the blood, the cut of the touch.
Trapped in dark and sacred pleasures yet nurtured at birth and born of the
Earth.
Wait, I know this pain isn't OK. It reeks of decay but deep in the dirt the
fire still burns.

Bled dreams lost and obscene. Visions of lust and hatred. No one screams
nothing can be when hope and light are wasted. Grow untold a flower of poisoned
laughter knowing not where to find her I succumb to the one feeling burning
inside.