"the angel's sabbath." the first of a collection of hauntingly beautiful words. from a prophet of a nightmarish God. none will ever escape these words. you will be converted. all ye men who are foolish enough to still hope come forth and be devoured .
"the angel's sabbath." the first of a collection of hauntingly beautiful words. from a prophet of a nightmarish God.  none will ever escape these words. you will be converted. all ye men who are foolish enough to still hope come forth and be devoured .  eldritch stories
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aburningdeceit
aburningdeceit it's a beautiful nightmare.
Autoplay OFF   •   18 days ago
A black church on Easter sunday, inside its pews outside the lines. Where the dark preacher speaks of warning, in the grave that fathered lies. They listen to his mourning, just don't look into his fucking eyes. Choirs singing notes, they're never blissful, the dissonance promises us all hell.

"the angel's sabbath." the first of a collection of hauntingly beautiful words. from a prophet of a nightmarish God. none will ever escape these words. you will be converted. all ye men who are foolish enough to still hope come forth and be devoured .

A black church on Easter sunday, inside its pews outside the lines. Where the dark preacher speaks of warning, in the grave that fathered lies.

They listen to his mourning, just don't look into his fucking eyes. Choirs singing notes, they're never blissful, the dissonance promises us all hell.

Into the faithful evening, where the child inside you died. A woman weeps beneath the sunset of the light within your eyes. Although they gaze deceitful, a dreadful sight you could not bare.

They stare forever at your lifeless little shell. Come tomorrow morning, you sleep right by side. Just as light crept through the window, i woke up choking on your ghost then cried.

I thought i heard you singing. Notes safely out of key. It was nothing but the wind. Now i'm hearing voices in my head it never ends. I tried to speak but only wished.

That i could taste your kiss. I only lust for being missed. There was a boy without a shadow. Who could only sleep but never dream. His bed of snakes where moonlight laughs in flickered screams.

He only would go nowhere, his clothes were never clean. Instead hes sitting naked in all the fucking lies you made me believe. That boy became a healer, but his patients never lived.

So he gave up growing into the man who could not give. Prayers , blessings, put your money in that cup. A black church on easter morning, worship happens here.

You will return so ever faithful this i know. In this mass i'll applaud forever. Amen to that sermon from the messenger you shot.

Ill never stop believing, who would ever save my filthy soul? Hahaha.

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