Bathos and its dilettantes, bow down to the Iconoclast for it?s all been done before and I yearn to break the symmetry of you all. ?We but yen to suffocate
Slava! ?Dulcet bitterness it was, with shadows cast as pearls therefrom - the Burial Tree, the blessings of Illumination,? said the serpent to me. ?For
onset of atrophy, reach out and touch the earth with all five fingers. Leaves, bones. Pitiful when the host opens wide to infection. Trees, petals. Weakness
?A warning on human naivete - the pig pretends that it was born outside the mud. The lamb will follow every step of the loving shepherd until, at last
?There can be no true repose in a lie,? so wept the serpent, ?for there are parasites in the tree of life. Yet I will never be pacified without knowing
NAMBLA is the Catholic church?s official North American branch. ?They?ve immolated our children upon their altars of bloodshed and burning - Moloch and
Bent beneath the weight of this pain, in my dying thirst you offered me poison. Your words are but nails to my feet. Now I comprehend the curse of those
lives are. We will all end in that box. Death is the collector, our lives but a collection of leaves falling from The Burial Tree.
death glorified, praising the hands that fasten tight upon your throats - and you choke.? In this, our hour of judgment, humanity is violently redeemed. Thena' Shaitan! Ana