Sun of Wuornosse

Otepicide is desire fulfillment
Aslightest touch of death
Suits to the palatte gone down
Fallen are the bloodthirsty angels

Grace fallen to jesters touch
And all is well and right to drain
Magik is gonna touch the glens
The azure blades impale banshee
strains in decline

A graceful flowing school of creatures
Haunting and lilting dirge's caress
To summon and seduce into completion
Redemption of pain and suffering to flesh
With sweeping death

Awkward and beauteous robotic suicide
True grace and beuty the guiltridden sacrifice
But a mind programmed to care only for pleasure
will swallow atrocities with hungers untold
More vast than even I may ever know

Four eyes wee by four eyes shy of touch
A clone shall be preferred to a summoned beast
A brother to a gargantuan lie of swarming touch
Floating mindless {at waltz of wander-life} with the thoughts in small eyes
Deathhammer rings from the one late queen of this horrid - desolation

Who dares calls herself queen here? - called out by Sun of Wurnos
Pretender to the matron's throne calls out grim lies
And parasitic alien whore fiends followed my old bloodland to here born
And confused who they are I will tell - here shades of prey queens white horrid
Wish throne of white creature-kings upon to sit as whore goddess
And meet the facetious grand old struggle 'twween good and bad
And nauseate unto vomiting soiled clutching ankles
That one shall not proceed to the swamp hags terrain to discover
From beyond the grave realms ghastly promised I serve though misogynist
Geased by fear and dread to expunge Her failed sisterhood of new world
And convenienced by personal hatreds related only too glad to serve as well
As what quite needed