Onslaught کے بول

onslaught of a flood on the fatal day crushing like the dead weight of a fallen deity well could it be just the luck of the draw or just - perhaps - vicious - circle - hemlock the culprit is my anarchive of a motherfucking caustic vibe imbalanced adorned by my decay of faith relentless siege hammering a titans anvil perched upon a fault line revel in this mode of hate crouching in a clotted corner bloody blade in hand pushed and pulled to stretch beyond what used to think as man i'll finger paint a curse of pain on canvas made of flesh and ponder soaked in liars blood just who will be my next crouching in a clotted corner bloody blade in hand recounting acts of violence hate and pain i've dealt so grand lives and limbs strewn all about and elsewhere more of the same crossed just one too many time to be as they think sane you fall from the grace of this one life fall from the grace for one last time fall from grace