The chants of pain

The deformed

Come all ye faithful,

sculpted by pretentious purpose,

clad in joyous pain,

carnival of broken shadows…

Come all ye faithful.

in ones or by twos,

surrendering a false assurance,

bathed in moral nectars.

Come all ye faithful,

breathe in the dust,

exhale the deafening  reason,

for you spell a treason!

Come all ye faithful,

smoked in lecherous colours,

mooned in pleased shame,

into the orb smelting souls…

Come all ye faithful,

drenched in fame,

embellished by rowdy admiration,

 You! stellar of mouldering name!

O come all ye faithful,

to the gates of dawn,

deformed as the horn’d beast,

for I play the chants of pain!



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