by J.A. Von Schinzel - Reynolds


Lying in a broken heap

Spitting dead language in my sleep

Tableau of mediocrity

I see you and curse you in my dreams

My eyes roll back

My breath abates

My demons attack

It is now too late

You've sealed your fate

I harbinge your doom

And sooner or later I hear you've been

Confined to your room

You sit, you stare, you plead

You wonder what it is you've become

And by the time you wonder if it's me

The spell has been lifted as if God heard your pleas

Arise, take heart, and then we walk, we tread

To where your Sin shines

You're so easily led

Through the mask to the forest

To the unhallowed mass graveyard

To where the Moon sinks in the sky

Like a great ball of lead

Upon arrival your skin is shed

Your mind leaves your body

By snake, toad or spider

Tongue nailed to the ground

Now you hold my Familiar

But while you suffocate

on golden webs and astral winds

I glide

And no one can hide

From the Red Tide of the Moon

The Great Rite is unleashed

In Salem. 


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