Messa Da Requiem

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     The smell of death was intoxicating and yet so maddening. One would think to run and flee at the sight of the reaper, but I stay in his warm embrace. Every haunting breath he takes, sinks into every fiber of my being. Enticing me to snuff out all life in my rampaging path. As I dance to this triumph melody of utter despair; I take in my hand the dagger of sacrifice and prepare myself for the crimson beginning to the end.

For all things must eventually come to the gates of forgiveness only to be turned away by misfortune.

Insanity shall be my final resting place.

Carnal BlackWhere stories live. Discover now