The-Anal-Monsters

My insides are leaking boiling fluid; Its effervescent composition makes me feel lucid. The singing mesh, spilling forth from a necrotic laceration; The gaping orifice stigmatizing all those seeking divination. Striving to be passive and lame; My life is but a pawn of God in his game. This is my test; something I can only lay myself to fault: An impossible hurdle, too high to vault. What caused my incessant pain? Will there be any true gain? From the tongue of Great Abaddon I have been delivered to martyrdom; Driven by the lord’s chariot and bound by the bane of freedom. The softened face of God looks down upon me in pity; From Hi