16 September 2012
Slowly dripping on the wall.
Like autumn leaves upon the falls.
The blades are dancing in perfect time.
Along to Satan's lullaby.
Body's pile, more and more.
Mounding on a crimson floor.
A gazer sees this mundane crime.
His stare transfixed from upon the blinds.
A terror smile, draws him in.
Indulged in humans greatest sin.
The madmen crys then takes gazers life.
So he can see his blissful wife....
We Meet In Heaven • Opuss № I