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Something to pierce |
Something to pierce, an instrument to draw a blade.
The sharpening that of a razor.
The shin like a sheet of paper, a river of blood gushes out.
Radial artery.
Thirty seconds. Loss of consciousness.
A cut, two minutes and death in silence.
Pain, before the thickest darkness.
Something to pierce, bleeding blood.
Pressure drops, no oxygenation to the brain.
Crippling crashes, exploding cornea, severed subclavian.
Two seconds, no connection.
Three seconds, the feast of evil.
Pain, before the thickest darkness.
Knife blows switch a slashing madness.
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Deprived |
It's cold outside and she's dead inside.
A slow agony is ending her life.
Grey walls, cold buildings, that face each others.
Her cage a rotten tree in winter.
Deprived
Suffering, starvation, lacking strength
Deprived
Her thin bones are cracking like dried bread.
Left gaunt and debilitated.
He wanted her like this.
Drained of all energy, like branches of a dead tree.
Brain chemistry, impossible to concentrate.
Lethargic, apathetic but trying.
The slow agony is making her die.
Deprived
Suffering, starvation, lacking strength
Deprived
Her thin bones are cracking like dried bread.
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No feast for flies |
On the horizon a sea of salt water.
No one can guess, what lurks down in the deep.
There reside so many tales of life.
And so many lost things.
And if sometimes the waves bring back memories.
We will wait for them as if they were gifts.
A mass of water soon will strike.
As a distant light becomes smaller and smaller.
A lighthouse piercing the shy.
Ripping through the black clouds.
A body floats on the water.
Rotten and mangled, fading away.
A cadaver in the sea.
The process of decomposition.
No feast for flies
Or worms hidden inside.
A body floats on the water.
Rotten and mangled, fading away.
A cadaver in the sea.
The process of decomposition.
No feast for flies
Or worms hidden inside.
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Kill devour dissect |
The gaze of one who knows no fear.
Flesh is torn by those nails.
Four legs, two heads, monster.
Sharp teeth tearing into flesh.
Bloodthirsty beast, hill, devour, dissect.
There is no point in resistance.
Torn to pieces, eaten alive.
Chronicle record awaits.
Forgotten cod.
I feel your teeth close to my melting brain.
The bones in my head crushed.
Adrenaline is ruling my mind.
Shreds of flesh scattered everywhere.
No guile, no strategy, just pure and savage race.
The fury of those claiming a new day.
A being that tears through sinews and bones.
Blind, primordial, ancestral race.
Bloodthirsty beast, hill, devour, dissect.
There is no point in resistance.
Deboned, gutted and slaughtered.
Chronicle record awaits.
I feel your teeth close to my melting brain.
The bones in my head crushed.
Adrenaline is ruling my mind.
Shreds of flesh scattered everywhere.
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The sun god |
Blood, the psychoactive drink of the lord.
There is no rest for the dismembered ones.
Anthropomorphic, a distorted memory of our past.
Bodies found with dislocated femurs but still alive.
In the valley of freedom.
All children are running around.
The spirits of the shy, of sea and mountains.
Stronger than all and everyone.
Blood, the psychoactive drink of the lord.
Scarification of the bones of the sacrificed.
Prisoners tied around the neck.
Arms, legs, and feet amputated.
Live torsos devoured by pics.
The screams reach the sun cod.
The spirits of the shy, of sea and mountains.
Stronger than all and everyone.
Symbolic, imaginary and demonic figures.
We are cult! We are the "moche" people.
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Dume kike |
I am the killer of killers.
How can I stop shaking in fear?
The prison walls are grey and dark.
And it is difficult to erase the sadness.
My legs feel like boulders.
My head is bowed and my face remains still.
You enjoy the gallows and I co to eat.
Hugging and kissing you gives me relief.
Inside your cell waiting for your last meal.
A priest for a sinner, let us pray today.
I'll be with you as you make your last way.
The trapdoor opens, the brain shuts down.
You'll be lead dead, and I'll co to eat.
My hands become colder.
A rope tight around the neck.
Soon silence falls in the cell.
A black hood that cannot be seen.
A hanging body that can't be felt.
My legs, my hands become boulders.
A rope tight around the neck.
Soon silence falls in the cell.
A black hood that cannot be seen.
A hanging body that can't be felt.
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One shot closer |
Slaughtered like a pic.
All words run through my mind.
The brain is a stain of paste poured on a concrete floor.
One shot, closer, I faint and fall to the ground.
One shot, closer, heavy weapons strike and knock down.
A chain of violence that can't be broken.
Created by all the atrocities committed.
Slaughtered like a pic.
The head is smashed by furious lead shots.
The brain is a stain of paste poured on a concrete floor.
One shot, closer, I faint and fall to the ground.
One shot, closer, heavy weapons strike and knock down.
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The best part is the brain |
Crossing the lush forest.
With the awareness of being seen by someone or something.
Life emanates from above, between the leaves of the sturdy trees.
When the two rivers come together, fear and menace are created.
Approaching the last of the cannibals who walk the earth.
An inhumane journey to the limits of the believable.
A dehumanisation of ethics and common morality.
They sat on the banks of the silent river.
Their faces were blank in their holiness.
A crowd of naked men with bows and arrows.
Where civilisation is pollution.
The best part of a great skull is the brain.
The flesh of a man dissected like a pic.
"Suddenly a wizard from the underworld.
Ready to steal our souls.
He swallowed our freedom.
And we will do the same to him."
An inhumane journey to the limits of the believable.
A dehumanisation of ethics and common morality.
They sat on the banks of the silent river.
Their faces were blank in their holiness.
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Nove strade |
To you, lords of the netherworld.
The body and the soul of a child.
Unblessed watcher unaware of Persian lore
Cannot stop the burial ritual.
Living in sin the last moment of one's life.
Betrayed by the hot desert sand.
Facing the eyes of those invoking demons.
Fourteen virgins are on offer.
First the animal meal, then the ashes swept away.
Burying people, the ancient ritual of death and rebirth.
The eyes have no more tears to cry.
Fainting prepares the mind for the end.
There are traces of ancient worlds.
Like smoke, many twisted female forms arise.
They are demons, evil ghosts.
We are almost at "Nove Strade".
May the wind carry away the damned prisoners.
To you, cods of the underworld.
The body and the soul of a child.
Unblessed watcher unaware of Persian lore
Cannot stop the burial ritual.
Living in sin the last moment of one's life.
Betrayed by the hot desert sand.
Facing the eyes of those invoking demons.
Their heads buried in a dying sun.
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Latex hood |
It's nine o' clock in the morning.
She has spent ten hours in a cage.
The only way for her
To drink is through a straw.
To make the blood flow.
The pillory presses on her neck.
Sensory isolation.
Extreme deprivation.
Self.hypnotic trance.
Having the last breath.
Trying to take off the black mash.
Just for one minute.
To quench the thirst.
But the latex hood
Still covers the eyes.
Breathing is harder than ever.
The bringer of death
Is a black leather mask.
Sensory isolation.
Extreme deprivation.
Self-hypnotic trance.
Having the last breath.
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The unsmiling windows |
Indifference, laughter, death.
People walking the streets
Dressed in dead animal shins.
Hell of ice, in cold and tears.
Sitting alone.
Unable to feel my soul.
Leaving my body.
Hypothermia.
The evil of the modern ace.
Ignoring the life
Of a man on the ground
For the sake of your own selfishness.
The unsmiling windows of a closed house
Hoping for the warmth of an embrace.
Dead bodies between asphalt
And snow as if nothing happened.
The running engine of the cars.
In the noise of the city.
Indifference, laughter, death.
Crossing the city streets.
Walking in an empty dream.
While I can't feel my hands.
Or even my feet.
The sight of a child' smile
With no escape.
Hypothermia.
The evil of the modern ace.
Ignoring the life of a man on the ground
For the sake of your own selfishness.
The unsmiling windows of a closed house
Hoping for the warmth of an embrace.
Dead bodies between asphalt
And snow as if nothing happened.
The running engine of the cars.
In the noise of the city.
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