Wound
greedily escaping
It leaves
broken ghosts to hide
punishment invariably skrwawione destruction daemon
goes new
hosts suffer slowly
before looking for fallen face night rejected
sick of the Cross remind me they are only now
mortal ghosts burn forever
I always fight with a dog
desperately looking for my despair ruddy
hyaena longing for redemption awaits
Is not this the irony of fate that the wind lies dead?
look just as sick to death of it
Now the city is destroying the child pain
złudnego sees as a lie daemon illusion awareness