The Final Harvest Brainstorm.

By AKHKHARU BLASTHORNOXX XUL
 

Millions of coffins We see, when the lightening strikes within.
With heightened senses Our lust for blood cannot be quenched.
Death bells call,
mortals fall.
Forgotten desecrations and rituals of Pain.
Freezing with Black Wings, We fly over the billions of mortals covered in icy grief.
Cold fire ignites Our shadowed eyes, when decayed corpses bleed in the Darkest Eclipsed Moonlight.
Terrorizing Horror reflects Our eyes, when widows cry over the impaled starvated frozen remains of their beloved foolish spouses.
When the innocent children cry in mournin torment over their lost families, yes innocence feeds well Our Hunger.
When the ripped corpses creep, devoured of all Blood in the red coloured snow.
When pools bubble and sparkle with the infinite Magic of the most Ancient Race, the bloodpools of the terrified mad human meat.
When the Body of Blood tolerates no more the limitations of times before times.
When the Seventh Seal cries out its unliving torment and desecrates into the Black nothingness of Eternall unconscience.
When the lightenings of the purest whiteness blast and burn the Earth into extreme Blackness.
When all the light is extracted from mortality, and Death's angels reap on Their Undead Wings of Bestial Lunatic Supremacy.
When the Lords of the Darkest Light rule the unliving of the perpetual material.
When the Black Mists creep in extatic Gloom upon mortal dwellings.
When our feelings will be so deep,
phantom bodies filled with the Blood of countless sheep.
When necromantical slavery begins at birth of death.
When the Black legions march, from the kingdoms of sorrow animated by Funeral Black Devils Blood.
When the mirrors vomit thousands of Inhuman Horror Monsters.
When the Gods of Prey harvest the Elixir of Pain.
When the Undead Wolves' teeth shine in the Blood covered blades of Spectre Warriors animated by the infernal Desire to drink from the everlasting Cup of Tears.
When the chalices of red living Wine must be filled and filled again to satisfy the Darkest Kings on their Black Bone-burned Thrones of everlasting Hate.
When the Angels of God's White Light Human Life Loving Goodness,
...turn their Undead faces with the screaming ghost voices of thousands of Undying terrorizing haunting chants,
to induce a deserved Eternall cry of thrilling spine cold fear,
the fear of a thousand years of hope filled tyrrany,
upon your worthless race of humanity.
 

The experiment has succeeded !

Home


 
 
Hosted by www.Geocities.ws

1