Your Becoming

Contraption of abstraction, each unceremonious flicker a brick behind the tapestry of brain
Critters scream in pitched voices suffering creaking squeal of beams grown by woods in pain
Solemn forest of destruction laid waste unto the crawling under-filth contorted heathen plane
All that is has been Solomon claimed in his rotten years having his filth of the pagan whores
What is, was and will be again and who knows if your sons will be good men or bad?
Gazing down Mount Moriah Zion calls for justice from all the incense altar burning high places
Which Satanic inner sanctum of sexual splendor summons then this unholy orgy a temple of tapestry
Moloch the great owl then blows the trumpet, bringing out the boiling bronzen child furnace of hell
Ashtaroth Beelzebub and Lucifer have their toes curling at the story of Abraham and Isaac fulfilled
Walking in the ancient paths laden with dust turned mud by the agonies of sucklings frying
Holy hell stands at the infinite staircase billions of bones churning boiling mighty stench profuse
Unceremonious mess turning on the invisible axis drifting through careless space
Ignore grand human's eternal torment for their fetished sins are infinite in momentous pleasure

Behold Asherah pole erect as the bulging cock phallus Holy Mother demands Her devotion for fertility
Your children then walk through fire and dash the innocent bones down cliffs she bears summoning futility
Come clarity through one reality suffering screeching witches idle hands are the toys of Satan
Pox force to release dire need starving suffocating dying of thirst the only salvation 
Warped justice the lie of the love of man takes eye for an eye and bashes cheek with morning star
Nothing by ear but the ringing of knell festering by nostril delicacies of perpetual crimson tar
Hello my child welcome and let me lead you into this horrid nest of palpable terror supreme
Give me your little hand and please do squeal that melodious stench of fear shining with gleam of Set
For the firmament will be drenched with most dreadful pastel
Forsake your hopes of reproductive shell
Stall your soul in shed of poison well
Your becoming heralds in depths of hell
                                                               the inner walls of his harem covered with intricate panels finely crafted and filled with death defying acts of ejaculation.

CuldeSac

What are words without understanding and what is understanding without sense?

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