Conceit - Poem by Count Dracula
Flashback of witch's trials,
I hear the screams of Satan's child,
While searching for this mangled breed,
I have learned that death runs wild.
Chaos, death, pain, and blood,
Witnessing sanctuary rotting away,
Trapped, enslaved to this satanic flood,
I watch as the meaning of life turns gray.
I walk on the ground deceased,
The soul of death now shatters peace,
My souls is dead, I can't retreat,
I live yet die in conceit.
My thoughts of death, my rights concealed,
The suicide of dead soul thinking,
The séance of my lost soul revealed,
The blood bath of twisted minds I am drinking!
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