Diseased Intent
Welcome to the human race, victim, welcome to the benediction party.
End is near so shout your throat raw, this dirge will be your last.
So make it a pitiful one.
Chiseled bone drip drip drips.
Dull throb of aching flesh, wasting into nothingness.
It will never stop. A new dimension of cuts to anatomy better left unsaid.
Limb from limb.
Become a thing. So it's decreed. So it will be.
Crawl... crawl inside a new chamber of mutilation.
It laughs at your struggle with an execrable snicker and a gibbous sneer.
"You can stop when you love me."
The laughing echoes through the frozen halls that are ripping... chip, chip, chips you away as you slither.
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