Glittering snowfall in mid-wintered mirrors
Raging between full moon beams and dreaming stars
A few Draconic, post-mortals whose Lycanthropy eager
To control their beaten heart...
A miracle of creation, the light of night strokes me
From hell it shall ascend, A gross form of mutation
Phrenetic anger, necrophagous mind
Glossed the gleam in their eyes
Fold in the a nocturnal gown
Hear their luring howl
Spellbound with bloodlust, eyes of crying Angels,
Shall bait on our children, promulgating our deepest fears
Their heart's beats on, fiery blood in my veins,
A diorama in mind, teeth snatching flesh,
Like A Transylvanian Rape
In silver forest, where children of the Moon dwell,
They have stroked me, now the curse goes on
Feculent, abhorred, ablaze,
Hunting down who disbelieves the rage
My love, Thou stray away from me
Now Thou lay under me, My teeth in thy skin
Slivering Thy spine, Raping Thy mind
Lycanthrophy,
My curse to destroy
Lycanthropy
A curse of the moon
...
ik weet dus niet zeker of k deze al eerder geplaatst heb..maarja
[Dit bericht is aangepast door bLaCkAnGeL (13-11-2001).]
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i don't recognize myself, this is very interesting.
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