LeviathanX666

Death Magic We've eoven hearts, a thorn anbar Left tears streaked reasons, upon the share A benefit copass, stan, or more Sent out for this world to end. Few were the praw, whos't slave below Painting coal with a perfect gold But for all it's worth, be ended slow, Dead, in the bincle's again. From Cabin Fever, swallow me over the mountain Praised to Phallais seas, that this, A home, to clowns dicease A storm rolls on the way Blacker than the Ace of Rayses Dealt out by death in darkwood glades Or ship of feels all boards handmade Sinks dashed by Seismic Waves...

Here is the face Of the sheer drop, Where the weeds cannot Seize the sliding slope. Here is the sea That cuts the soil, Here is the wind That breaks the bind. Here is the hollow Of the smell and the seep, Where the rocks roll And the seaweed sleeps. Here is the core of the broken wave; Here is the bay of the beating breath; Here is the water of the still slumber.