Whatever monster was more great and terrible then you, who uses its pale skin as justification as power over me because you fear the dark.
Blackness, isn't empty but divine and potential for what potentially is to be. It isn't, that I would choose to speak but the mircle that you would ever listen.
Bound in blood and war copies and mockery we all are. I command whatever, divinity in me come forth and break shackles of Gods who would choose to die as man.
Freeing the spirits from flesh, to fulfill what was intended by mother consciousness and father creator.