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Isolation & The Blackguard

[Text: T.Scorn / Gideon, I.Hate]

I unmasked my genesis, this given inbound
While killed the super-ego and this all meaning died.
I beheld a million murdered on the illiberal pyre
And an implacable pandemonium of a wobbling hive
Draped in abounding droning
a bluebottle fleece
Hymns scribbled in a hand
Caught shifting in the
As a rabis tragedian, accosting this morale
While impeaching cerulean innocence my laceration of faith prevailed.
Debonairity instantly gifted, I now fail to bewail their fall, as I sneer at their febrile fear and their moribound call.
Patron of
Avatar of
A bulwark in heathen
flawless by the sand
Embellished by its and moldering sanctimony survives
Through incessant mystical obese the samblance of truth denies.
resounding and abjected to a gallantry-show,
Of needless flimsy - This the humans of Earth bestow.
lines with mounting glee
Flashed a web-cracked
Eldritch turns of father
of mead and bile
Boundless preternatural wrangling and baspattering profound, in quile and iconolatry and gormless mass is bound. Fragmentation of the perceptive and in the nebulous enwrapped, signing the necrology - By odius gibber entrapped.
Widower of a host
vestigial bride
Litaire of immaculate
the "I"
In the maelstrom still imploring in coltish laboured need, the headsmen of heterogeneity are a gasping noxious breed. Dissimulating the plausible, nugatory of disillusion, with eveningsongs of undiluted clemency drabbled in pure confusion.
Patron of
Avatar of
A in heathen lands
Blasted by the sand
Above this opulence, this risible neurathenia of man, I cachinate as a blackguard, travelling these dying lands. In the ablart of lamentation lupine I walk in knavery, mordacious with an eerie truth - A rampant obfuscating novelty.
Patron of
Avatar of
The bulwark of these heathen
Blasted by the sand