Morbid Curiosity

Wreathed in velvet darkness is my silent heart, dreaming of the moon in animosity torn apart; inspired to avatarreflections of an infinite storm from the eternal sea craving for the deformed 'round hearts of precious stones in vigorous plan shaped upon church doors of the sickly damned, wearing pride as a veil to hide their incessant curse in repugnant halls that decadence held worse than the reign of flesh spat Judas in our stride between extremities of faith retched to hide; gilded in the crests ravaged by sinful eyes approached with seismic and genocidal cries to hide palebewitchmentin palatial glades, demandingpleasures towards oblivious shades like virgins of beauty spinning a lustful hell in dark and burning effigies known so well, but behind it there was heaven with truth lost to God from Satan with rising proof, feigning love and light laid out for the brave in a heart of no mountains espied from the grave, reflecting from the utopia that thunder cracks, unfurled across a world of abscess tracks.