The Switchblade Crucifix

A dying soul is in turmoil for most of eternity.

For when the flesh crawls away in the mouth of Eurynomus,

sleep consumes the rest.

I do not want you in pieces.

I do not care for you in dreams.

Those which can be ruptured with ease.

All it takes is infinite wisdom, and an envious heart.

As sadness drifts away and my melancholic seasons produce tears,

the failure of it all surpasses scorn.

My lyrics slur and my breath emits the scent of red wine.

These walls trap my deeds and I expire.

I will not allow myself to disinegrate into bone dust,

to walk amongst the dead and feast upon the ignorant.

Dispatched with this switchblade crucifix, we bleed apathy.

Lay here with me forever under this chemical moon and become eternal.

Endure the sleep within my velvet casket.

Prounounce your love for me with a singing tongue.

I’ll tattoo your name upon my lips,

and engrave your face within my heart.

And amongst the lost souls we shall commence,

One tyrant beyond sadists.

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