Exile-Sky

He slips through chains of control to see the shame and fear of those watching his broken reflection.
Enjoying missery, hurtful words, and the blood red sea before the mighty king of his own sunken mind.
Embrased by horrors and thoughts of flesh torn and sown together, with the fabric of all he can find.
Mirrors showing him seven faces with seven signs of holy orders and demonic fanatic intentions.
Ripping bowls from place and eyes from sockets, to better understand the perfection of pure insanity.
Walking down isles of skin and sitting on pews of sin, to smile at the rememberance of kids killing kids.
Thinking hard on steel through skin, and fibers of death meshed with life, all hidden behind his eye lids.
Chanting curses and hyms to the living, rather then the dead, to grasp hold of the horns of blasphamy.
He lives the life no one understands, and understands no thing in life but his urdge to seek pain.
To see the seven signs of angelic bliss on faces of those around, and in the worl