An Erotic Ethics Error Portrait

I gave you to my desert
'said ya' might be lost but not alone
I sold you to me prototype
propensity to scorn is mine to show, guess what?!
Move, spoof, overweight heat out of control.
Spring again, sin again, spittum, chaos overlapping
don't you step over... the flood area.
So whats wrong with a little agony
a harmless game between you,
the servile and me the deatiny
we love each other as we are
so hateful and depraved
a peaceful pack of pliancy
in any damned diraction...
Could you please dance my dance?
I do, we do, god for us.
Skin in skin
Flesh admits flesh
languish for spittle
breath meets breath
pushing lust into sweat
magnificence tenderness.

The Apocryfal Wisdom Of An Allegorical Apocalypse

[The prophet:] Many martyrs have fallen since I passed this way...
[The truth:] Many skies have bled.
[The profet:] Many gods did returns, many players lost their aim many loves have felt.
[The truth:] Many sons were born.
[The prophet:] I wonder if the children will forgive...

When the light dies through infinite darkness
and the children start to cry;
when a scream turns a whisper
when the ages bleed alive...
Reality becomes illusion
illusion is reality;
is this the alliance for the ancient
of the new birth of a profecy?
Unnatural beings, morbid existence
resuscutated horror, ambigious visions
see the apocalypse - rise...
We were banned by the fire, in the grip of the ceremony.
We saw types in our hearts, we denied every life we could give.
And infinity grasped out for slaves, day by day - year for year.
Why that prophet spoke to the abyss below him:
Have we ever been free?
And behind the shade sleeps an apocryphal wisdom
in the hour of twilight
in this legendary times...
Unnatural beings, morbid existence
resuscitated horror, ambigious visions
see the apocalypse - rise...
Now that the breath has gone the fire claim its might;
now that in this dark millenium no master is alive.
Now that a castle atends between the ruins of the past;
now that the omens wither away, no hope will ever last.

[The prophet:] Iwonder if the children will forgive...

In an earlier age Pandemonium - the first city of hell -
stood on a lava mountain while lightning tore
the clouds above it and beacons burned on its walls
to summon the fallen angels
- Clive Baker, 'The Damnation Game'

Travel through space
so ghostly withers the void;
the veil of spheres my hands
they search for hold world of spirits.
A sea of rooms, a forest of nothing
where a soul wanders imploring for substance...
Decifer the majesty Leviathan.

For lifetimes pantomime
transformad into a parade of mountains
delivered from the golden doctrines
allowed the bleed...
...Bleed to MYTH.

Rearing the look from the sun
I would never know the latest
day I woke up in the cold broke
that I promised, fading away, my light.
Tell me, my repertory, if this will last
what more they want my pride to give
and why - I ask you why am I the only figure kept alive.
They had to do what was to do and did what in the mind
of a force known as the sense of man got banned and mystified...
So lead me back, my repertory of grey where I belong
and never can be in possibility to lose my weight,
my inner peace, my way and when you, my repertory,
ever will turn from grey to freedom I forget,
I will forget my fault
my fault, my very fault...

Flowers are fed by the guilty sun
guilty for keeping the life command
winds groa to storms, storme bear further sons
thia is my breed... thia is my cycle of need.
If you pay for me - I cannot be.

Lost in you and nothing but peace in my hands
nothing but a smalltalk with my death
nothing but the pioneer who climbs the highest mountain to fall.

And the course of the stream
makes us to madman we've been
awakes the psychopats who rests
to watch the suffering process.
You have not pleaded for me - now I'll be.

Lost in you and nothing but peace in my hands
nothing but a smalltalk with my death
nothing but a pioneer who climbs the highest mountain just to fall...

In the circle deep
lost me in this gold, gold black
a strong arm in these weak days just
an inner wish to be forgotten...
See, the ships are sailing
They sail without a sea;
And still Jesus is praising
he speaks with no need to breathe...
In my worlds I claim nothingness to be
and pictures awake and grow in me.
What is left to expect?
Where's to go to look at?
Gallows for sale, just follow the stench of my sweat.
You in my mouth, did you really believe you were safed?
'Swopped blood for blood,
'snuffed mud for mud
'shook hands with the boys of the underworld.
The last in the inside of my outside
did you really believe you were safed?

I am the medium to treasures that pulsate in your desire
among the death and the alive my regency swells at you side
I give you
I give blood
I shell become one with god in your
world the genius reads my epitaph
MY ENERGY GROWS ON AND ON.

You dive into sleep
find roses under the door, they seem
to speak in trance of youth;
femember who you swore to chose, girl...
I am dead, dead in love
I am pale, pale enough
To be dead, death I got
dead in love.
There may be a sky
could be a sign for me to rise
but without blood an energy
I sand my brain weves, possibly
they find their aim.
Death I got...
You float into sourness
infected by my bite you crawl
down in my castle where the beasts
lie in my arms and smile so sweet.
I am dead, dead in love
I am pale, pela enough
tio be dead, daeth I got
Dead in love.

Hellchild, be awaken
time to remember the rules
the centuries bleed,
the masters are dead and gone...
Dance again this winternoght
past and present shell unite
run for the burial
enter the vesper again.
The rummors suppose
godforsaken are those
that will bath in the gloss of whatever...
Dance again this winternight
past and present shell unite
run for the burial
enter the vesper again.

OF SCEPTRE the mysteries speak.
THEIR ASHES in the lande of the lords.
MAY grounds ban the stones of their head?
BE one with the spawn of the dead!

I am scared to breath you name
whenever we dissove to blame;
but one day we will learn to fly
back to treasureland.
Somewhere someone investigates
we appeal to our experince;
this inner worth is inner war
we're longing the colors
as if we'd starve...

Still in perigee
still in liberty.
Still in reach
still in me.

Oh so red the cage
the seizure is my guard
and leader never I have been
in such a warmth before.
Oh so silent sleeps the planet
healers, are you near
I need another vision
I can trust and feed.
We are the dead dead ringers
we are in search of our birth.