Cryptopsy – Phobophile

In the kitchenWith a screaming triple amputee…Its completion depends solelyOn my needs…Said amputee`s stumpsAre my way of saying… @Thank youJust for being you.@Its fear tastes better than its limbs.Terror of moralityI draw from the slowly dying damnedMonsters live behind my eyes;I let them out and people die.And all the grave wormsThat come for their piece of meat?I give them dead things..The wretched living are mine aloneFright mounts with the body countTo which anthropomancy predicts a declineIn all of God`s creation,Can there be a lifestyle that`s better than this?I mark my territoryWith their blood and excritementAnd adipocere…I can find my way in the dark;My fulfilment is habitually necromanicAnd anal abusive..

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