A Stink Bomb Has Risen From Hell (Speaking To The Beast-Incantation)

Oh, you are such a foolish child  
The only address of your obscurity you reign is in Hell as you reside      
Darkness comes to me for answers rewarded with spiritual pride      
Your thorns may it pierce you in thy eyes      
Pluck out the sight offend thee not, feed it unto the sacrificed as being the castrated vessel by and by      
      
Jezebel painted lips      
Ugliness surrounding such harsh femininity, an aura reeking of filth        
Distressed razor tongue, upon the stance of your presence, I hawk and then spit      
Step into the light in this realm we call life      
What Lucifer your father cannot control, or bargain for their soul        
Battered emotions becomes the serpent’s strife      
       
The light is always found in the beauty of sacred truth      
A dark pulsate can only clarify how to hate and systematically abuse        
Cleanse your ambiance and set the festering demons radiating the dimness, hindering your glow, lose      
Oh, thy black rose planted in chaos, your bloody petals, demise unto the putrid temptation to touch      
The screen of your castle is only in a sense of virtual world that you venomously pledge unto much      
Sunrise to sunset, long tail dangling from the seat you sit upon which you allure for an ancient rush      
       
No wisdom or knowledge your acidity dialect cannot teach      
Deafening of ears to spiritual preach      
Dead of the mind to have faith in your words to divinely reach      
The past of your wickedness fourscore to see      
Discarded to grow, thrive outside a fragile mind as a young seed      
You are the pale horse that evil rides      
In your house of depravity, winds, storms, and thunder refuses to hide      
The four elements you cannot bend or twist, warfare, stealing of birthrights is your generational gifts      
       
I drugged you on my shores, getting in your mind, weakened you in the battle, a lesson in learning even shit can be flushed out It still emanates its foulness with trying to define its shout      
In the burdensome of reality, I am the clout      
Many moons ago wise tongues have come before me, unto these incantations you have been told about      
       
Prickled hearts with falsehood of youth, no more found in the glorious heart fluttering gush      
Spindling the curse of your own destiny in stone you embed of such      
Your heart bleeds of death and destruction from the pentagram of ancestral obtuse      
I fear not what I can conjure, summon, or chant, it is the blessings by rite of passage coursing through my veins      
The receiver and deliverer rooted in the present of righteous by the blood of my name      
You speak of riddles, yet encased in your own bitterness and tormenting rain      
The yin and yang, the duality of your own mental confusion of distain      
       
Lucifer could not get peace no matter where he slivered and roamed        
Unto the highest mountain he tempted the light to sit upon the righteous throne      
Those who see with that third mystical eye      
Recognizing you are the half man and donkey ass that shoots crooked arrows at the sky      
Reaping tears unto the stars the Heaven’s defend        
No one lives forever and repent not of their sin      
You may muddle Jinn        
No imaginative cognitive in the DNA of you        
Hollowed words only commence as being the dimwitted fool        
The darkness cannot ordain death upon the thistles of its own thorns      
Wretched in carnage from the circle of life, mind, body, spirit, and heart will always be jagged and torn      
       
Unto the calling of death in a split second mangled of splattered glass      
Reconstructed treasure of insignificant trash      
Crashed upon the fate, two times, shall be your last      
In thy valley of the shadow of death      
Upon your smite, the feast upon your skin once again shall be felt      
The hounds of Hell in between your legs you pet      
Unlike the feline, nine lives of ancient, worshipped more than the Ankh itself      
Two strikes upon your skin in the lamination shall be your downfall      
Trice upon the feet you will not stand tall      
       
Of the intellect you bring dimness in the rays of Dawn’s early light      
Hell in your persona unto midnight      
Mental unforgiving comes in the daylight by Heavens’ sight      
Unto the moon your songs are filled with injustice, and earthy contrite      
A bird can sing from the nest, does not mean it can always fly      
Mistuned awareness and impaired to bridge knowledge and wisdom for the questions given from the sky      
Old soul that roams on its belly as a demoness in wolf clothing, entitled the beast      
Drink unto pandemonium your own blood in good faith for the dark clouds shall hover, in your sheets        
In rest when you need to sleep        
For a worthless soul even the divine Creator refuses to keep      
       
Mirror mirror on the wall mankind take a bite of my rotten apple as a siren, I call      
If you taste my offering you would be as I      
Your eyes will be wide open, and yet you will surely die      
In the dark presence in Hell I shall become your earthly bride        
You will tell of my stench when the swan floats on the lake under a false moon that sits in the sky      
In my wake of annihilation I will emasculate you as if I am the Most High      
       
In my illumination my shadow cast no warming light      
False illusion of words to blind and covet my lustful urges in flight      
As a dead Raven upon rose petals I stir I am She and Her        
A kiss of death, as within my right        
However, as the beast, an entity from the abyss only here to shadow the five phases of a moonlit night      
       
Selah