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Isolation Icon & The

T.Scorn / Gideon, Music: I.Hate]

I unmasked my genesis, this inbound patricide
While clairvoyance killed the super-ego and this all died.
I beheld a million murdered on the illiberal pyre
And an implacable pandemonium of a prodigious hive
Draped in abounding shapes
Gifted a fleece
Hymns in a spidery hand
Caught in the breeze
As a rabis tragedian, accosting this imbecile
While their cerulean innocence my laceration of faith prevailed.
Debonairity instantly gifted, I now fail to bewail their fall, as I sneer at their fear and halter their moribound call.
of Misanthropy
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A bulwark in lands
flawless by the sand
Embellished by its drudges and moldering survives
Through mystical obese which the samblance of truth denies.
Self-abnegation and abjected to a gallantry-show,
Of needless threats - This the humans of Earth bestow.
lines with mounting glee
Flashed a web-cracked
Eldritch turns of father
Concoction of mead and
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 great necrology - By gibber entrapped.
Widower of a host
vestigial bride
Litaire of zeal
the "I"
In the maelstrom still imploring in coltish laboured need, the headsmen of heterogeneity are a gasping noxious breed. the plausible, nugatory accolade of disillusion, with eveningsongs of undiluted clemency drabbled in pure confusion.
of misanthropy
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A bulwark in heathen
flawless by the sand
Above this quaint 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 truth - A rampant obfuscating novelty.
of misanthropy
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The of these heathen lands
Blasted by the sand