You are the purple Throne and the bloodred sky
You have no name but the thousands we have given to you
(yet none of them
glorifies you more than silence)
...made of might and sorrow...
My red grinning wrists call you
They know your
name
They are your name
Your excellency, you are the rotting factor in me
You are the mist behind their backs
Life
is my grave
There is no salvation only the purple Throne in a black room behind the f*****g nightmare mirrors of life
You are
the inevitable
and I speak to you with an unknown language
words about nothingness
voices without words
mouths with no
tongues
You are the inevitable
King 666
You have no name nor language
You are the purple throne
and the bloodred
sky
and I call you with my knife
in front of the nightmare mirrors of life