Cannibalistic Paraphrenia
Burning. Stigmatic machines enveloping the dissolving core, sacred contagion mutters through the dead, and so these grounds slip into another plane. Prophesies of obliteration and the incarnate of chaos, masses kneeling to the faceless…I pray split the tongue of god so it may taste it's own blood, constrain declension, inject, internal relapse, concussion. I awake in blackness, under a fan as lights hanging low slowly manifest incandescence. One face stares down and tears into two deities. Each regenerates into its own, one of tranquil lucidity, the other an eyeless omnivorous self-proclaimed deity of carnage.
Demands Through Obliteration
A succession of weapons parades through the walls within our new machine, designed to destroy the inimical promises of a messiah that rapes its followers, a deletion through an orchid concealing lucid viral spores. You are lucid and weak; you twist with ease. Concealed eyes; chaos is a new god and blessing within the instinct of a bored mind. Awakening among the dead, I found them walking towards the lights; disfigured ants that leave when the sugar is gone.
Manifesting Dissolution
The leech tastes itself before it fucks you; pathogenic evolution. Mutational strands leaked into the hybrids of perfect killing machines are annually released to ensure this rotting earth's fucking salvation (to ensure this fucking earth's blessed deteriorations). Taste the decaying prostitute with synthetic movements and a fake cunt. I am a liquid trephine, dripping through your sleep. I am the internal poltergeist crawling out through your lungs. In her offering to attain salvation, I cannot help but manifest their weapons inside my head before she explodes within my mindlessness.
Intrinsic Decay
Targeted, the titanium abortion surfaces from asphyxiation through a cold layer of gasoline. Lacerated tongues abandon their false prophesized existence, reconcile with mass homicidal catharsis. I am, I am not; I have...become eternally nothing. Tearing safety out of the creator's corpse, a new hole. Numbing comfort envelopes these once believed viral deletions. Under black skies undetermined is a revolution to resurface, a fulfilling of visions described by the eyeless. They face towards the sun, the one that burns them alive.
Catatonic Infusion
Diseased and deteriorating pieces of euphoria melting up to the sky slowly fade until nothing's here, you're not stretched out to save anyone, so don't even fucking suggest that. I know that addictions are sometimes the new design as I rise to the tables and no one becomes everyone every time I blink. Abandoned, raped, a hooker's corpse consumed by the plague on all sides stretching thinner than they should but always keeping her bound just the same. Every fucking word from red walls is a blur until you rise to greet the killer eyeless. Pray your gods' glass tongues drip not into my head upon reaching your divine leaders, for these chosen shall fall eternally.
Cerebral Detonations
Culmination relapse enter annihilation. Embedded upon euphoria is the memory of it all before it occurs, the calming of night of the land always under the sun, mechanical exhaust hovering and staring down. The anti-matter cortex blessing your children is folding like a killers vision in the corner. Kiss the machine; it's going to save you from self-destruction and imbecility. It's going to expand inside you slowly while you explode quickly over the streets. A scintillation far too rapid to notice.
Convulse
I wish you could have stopped a little more slowly than you did. All your smooth skin torn to shreds and burning, your smile I couldn't recognize. Your mouth on hers; sugar on a dead god… Fuck it, the glass shards are your fucking halo, last words such a sick fucking joke that never finds it's end. Dance under the fire you beautiful fucking disease. Pray, go fucking pray and wait an eternity for the response. Marinating in metal fragments adhesive to your animations…grinding, bleeding, flooding my cortex.