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Reality is shedding her skin,
slipping out of her dress with a sadistic grin.
Feet flat on the floor, clawing at the rusted hinges of the door.
Pitch black eyes, baptized in flies, ordained to suffer.
The deceased lay scattered across the pavement,
their rotting flesh drips off their splintered bones.
Decomposing smiles light up the room,
allowing the maggots to bloom.
Slithering up my spine, my veins are turning black.
Death stares me in the eyes and tells me my life was a lie.
Manifesting before me, materializing in front of my eyes, the omnipresent god.
We are legion, for we are many.
We are legion, for we are the true voice of God.
Reality is shedding her skin,
slipping out of her dress with a sadistic grin.
Feet flat on the floor, clawing at the rusted hinges of the door.
I dip my finger in a skull full of blood,
scribing the words of lord across the wall.
Holy scriptures adorned in the essence of death
to be reborn and given breath.
You will be reborn and given breath.
Emanating from darkness, in darkness is truth.
You will find your forgiveness hanging
from the end of your bed sheet noose.
Kick the chair, say a prayer,
let him know of your despair.
In the end god never cared,
how does it feel to be forsaken?

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