Inconsistent ideals tend to choke on their vanity, god-given laws to corrupt our sanity. Fuck your values, and fuck your salvation, i laugh at inri and cherish temptation.
In the evershadowed corners of my soul, dwells the esoteric strength of mine. For the glory of the Beast, i forever raise the chalice of wine.
You may be many in numbers but you are weak in spirit, deliverance through obedient submission? Never have i trusted your words, your patterns are destined to fall apart. I hereby blindfold my self from your illusions.
The "truths" that you forced down my throat, i`ll bleed all over you. Tha hand that was promised to feed me, has always tried to strike me down. I`ve bit that hand with the teeth of Blasphemy, and blace a trail through constructions of christianity.
Blindfolded i am, yet never have i seen deeper into your weak souls. Cursed be thee, the celestial flock.
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