Disaffected ...and Flesh Will Be My Bride
You flesh will be my bride
Your sweet tasteful flesh
Will now be my bride
Swanped in the fluids
Into the vortex of forms
Touching the uncenced veil
Your sweet tasteful flesh
Will now be my bride
Awaken from lethargic state
Swanped into the fluids
In the vortex of forms
Your flesh will be my bride
The sleepers now awaken
Your sweet tasteful flesh
Will be my bride
Inhale the acrid stench
As it slowly spreads
The malignant growing inside
Feeding upon your flesh
Swanped in the fluids
Into the vortex of forms
Touching the uncenced veil
Awaken from lethargic state
Swanped into the fluids
In the vortex of forms
Bursting from within
As disease penetrates
Deep into your inwards
Antropomorphia
Your flesh will be my bride
The sleepers now awaken
Your sweet tasteful flesh
Will be my bride
Your flesh will be my bride
"...disease and illness, with whom we're married even
before we're born, will feast upon our carcass 'til we
rot..."
