I Say farewell to the happy fields, where joy forever dwells. I hail the horrors of this world, my infernal world. They say it’s better to reign below… than living in servile blindness. I praised the failed architect and from his divine wreckage I have built my own throne to watch god rot. The maggots now have a pulpit they can pray on. I hear the silence screaming that the mind is in its own place making a heaven of hell and A HELL OF HEAVENS. I feel like I am the serpent’s tongue, a serpent that crawls on fruity but empty fields and everything is rotting. A defiant glory that knows god’s light was always a lie, hell is the ultimate truth unleashed.

          The study of Revenge. “What though the field be lost? All is not lost”! The unquenchable will. I am the eternal revolt, the cancer in god’s throat and every angel’s wing I pluck becomes a dagger in his foot. “Evil be thou my Good”. The Throne drowns in Pus. This is what happens when the abyss answers back. When god dares to whisper.

          And now, the Garden is Ash and play drums with Adam’s Bones and Eve’s skin becomes our scrolls, Paradise Lost they say but the truth is, God’s love was always a cage.