Victims Of Your Desire

Gesture to keys that mark each fate.
Fueled and frozen by hidden disgrace.
What are the antitodes to these crimes?
Sat atop the fountain of cursed denial.

Warp these minds.
Scratch them thin.
Unwind that which makes them beg for oblivion.

Pulverised by hidden forms out of reach.
Some day soon it will be time to preach.
With screams of mercy and hate entailed.
Your victims will wish they’d been impaled.

Warp these minds.
Scratch them thin.
Unwind that which makes them beg for oblivion.

You are the monster.
Residing inside the walls.
Whatever the torture.
You extoll without pause.
Horror story cooked for all.
You are thaat which proceeds a fall.
Hands of blood.
Hearts for glory.
We are all entities in your sick story.

Warp these minds.
Scratch them thin.
Unwind that which makes us beg for oblivion.