Obscure was the object of my lucid dreams, she wore the flesh adored by many kings fooled by her twisted veil. My lust adheres a will impaled upon ten horns, the symbols of her throne.
Spawn of the damned
withdrawn from obscurity
Enticing, she bears both fire and ice
Adulation and celestial disdain
Promises holy deterioration
You've fallen for an angel, Samaels bride. Her Halo is a thorn crowned veil of false hope and lies
Lust as it seems is a catalyst for abysmal descent, toward a gathering of fallen souls like mine awaiting even further punishment. These dreams carry scorn derived from the venom I dread.
Blind to what is real, my faith remains in fire and ice
The object of my lucid dreams prevails upon my being, symbolic of the vice concealed by my desire.
Now go, relinquish this fallen temple of flesh deprived for your will. These wounds will never abstain from the reflection of your talons.
Embrace of Samaels bride
Prevailing winds of disdain