Weapon

Vortex - 11724

Weapon


Children of sworn malice, creatures of white dust
Reveled in stigmata, condemned to rust
Innumerable poisons, cyclical depravity!
A swarm of rats in decadent mortality
The rats! The rats! O, cherished dirt!
O, acerbic prison! Echelons corrupt
As the poison finds, the source of the pulse
That flickering candle of life is forlorn

Within the madness of four walls
A vortex drains thy marrow and spine
'Tis a fatal cave wherein you dwell
Carve thy flesh! Carve thy flesh!
Without the shroud of sainthood
The guise of acceptance; falsehood
This is where thy corpse is born
Carve thy flesh! Carve thy flesh!

My eyes are open!
Smoke and dust plummeting
To the very depths
Of my livid self!
For millennia I have been tricked!
Promises of (in) sanity

Swollen scars, gaping scars
Carve thy flesh, becomeascar!
Inhale the venom, exhale the fumes
Rotten skin, open wounds