30 April 2012
Born out of the scorching flames of doom, as you start to crawl through the fecal excess, of your mothers fetal obsession, you birth is marked by a crack in the demon mirror, from which your talent rises.
Blessed with fire and evil intent, you cross to the land of the lizards, filled with joy, you now feed on the purest fecal excess, and the flesh of the screaming inbreds, executioner you've now happily become.
Possessive and possessed. Doomed to eternel torment! Now death shall come! -----------------------
Is this dark enough, Priestess?
Human Filth • Opuss № I