Satanic Path
Active member
"It felt like floating,
living in a lightning,
this poetry' semen.
But as you please yourself in me,
be a good man, don't say amen.
Don't tell me I'm sweet, ever dare call me weak,
I have a dick for god to lick.
The preacher was so dumb,
he saw a numb guy to hump,
Bad Boone, you've been a nasty baby ,
not gonna spank you,
not my man, not hung,
flames in each lung,
sorry daddy Boone, that's been your doom, blew like boom boom boom! ...
now lonely bad Boone in the church he hung.
Priests may pick the bad bead,
throw that in christ's bed,
enjoy seeing it bleed.
This is your final deed,
you are freed.
My baby bead, you are pure,
this beauty is a snake's lure,
this madness is our poetry'semen,
this crackle is flesh we hear darken.
You are poetry'semen,
I like you, creature, wild nature wrecking the a-men.
Never wanted a golden crown,
my hands are enough and infinity they own,
I feel fingers becoming white serpents,
Dear, the true holy whore, for nothing she repents.
It felt like loving,
diving into a black basin,
finding no end, no misled stealing the sin,
there, sinful arises our poetry'semen.
Feel the hunger for this forsaken
poetry'semen, let it be awoken,
let your teeth sharpen,
feed our poetry'semen.
Our poetry'semen,
Our poetry'semen,
in the bed with me, don't say amen,
a-men are just dead men,
This is our poetry'semen.
Our poetry'semen."
By: me.
I've been inspired by an a-man, and by my strange imagination . ( It should be a funny way to play with the word amen, in the song.)
These boys who come at me, with a necklace showing a cross, already asking me if they can take me to their bed.
Even mudslims contact me, not knowing I'm there just to troll. Funny, didn't Ahmadinejad say that in Iran there are no fags? Guess allah failed at it, poor pig.
This is to me, to all of them, to all the straight Satanist girls who have to face these fools, because these people, they go to your pub, to your bar, school, work-place and so on. Even for boys.
To me, wearing a cross, means you belong to the mud, that you have no awareness or at least the courage to see what's behind that cross.
If you're questioning that, daddy Boone is nothing but a priest who likes having kinky things with minors.
He represents the whole Xianity.
[Xian= Pedo. Understand this, your child will be safer]
Going on, to me sex is poetry, the semen is the joy that comes after being created in each other.
We are uncompleted rhymes, in sex we found our home, our own poetry.
Zepar to me is a great inspiration (He may be my Guardian) : shape-shifting not only means you're able to change your body, but artistically talking we can see the meaning of art mutating without losing its seed, in order to ascend to higher levels of existence.
Art is not a mean at all, art is the purpose.
Even the soldier can be art, as in His Purpose he is art.
Even the unaware boy who doesn't understand art, he's art when he reaches the orgasm, when he rebels, when he bites and spits.
I'll stop myself here. I'm not good at explaining what I write.
Hope you liked it.
Hail Satan!
Hail Zepar!
Hail figure of the past!
Hail All You!
living in a lightning,
this poetry' semen.
But as you please yourself in me,
be a good man, don't say amen.
Don't tell me I'm sweet, ever dare call me weak,
I have a dick for god to lick.
The preacher was so dumb,
he saw a numb guy to hump,
Bad Boone, you've been a nasty baby ,
not gonna spank you,
not my man, not hung,
flames in each lung,
sorry daddy Boone, that's been your doom, blew like boom boom boom! ...
now lonely bad Boone in the church he hung.
Priests may pick the bad bead,
throw that in christ's bed,
enjoy seeing it bleed.
This is your final deed,
you are freed.
My baby bead, you are pure,
this beauty is a snake's lure,
this madness is our poetry'semen,
this crackle is flesh we hear darken.
You are poetry'semen,
I like you, creature, wild nature wrecking the a-men.
Never wanted a golden crown,
my hands are enough and infinity they own,
I feel fingers becoming white serpents,
Dear, the true holy whore, for nothing she repents.
It felt like loving,
diving into a black basin,
finding no end, no misled stealing the sin,
there, sinful arises our poetry'semen.
Feel the hunger for this forsaken
poetry'semen, let it be awoken,
let your teeth sharpen,
feed our poetry'semen.
Our poetry'semen,
Our poetry'semen,
in the bed with me, don't say amen,
a-men are just dead men,
This is our poetry'semen.
Our poetry'semen."
By: me.
I've been inspired by an a-man, and by my strange imagination . ( It should be a funny way to play with the word amen, in the song.)
These boys who come at me, with a necklace showing a cross, already asking me if they can take me to their bed.
Even mudslims contact me, not knowing I'm there just to troll. Funny, didn't Ahmadinejad say that in Iran there are no fags? Guess allah failed at it, poor pig.
This is to me, to all of them, to all the straight Satanist girls who have to face these fools, because these people, they go to your pub, to your bar, school, work-place and so on. Even for boys.
To me, wearing a cross, means you belong to the mud, that you have no awareness or at least the courage to see what's behind that cross.
If you're questioning that, daddy Boone is nothing but a priest who likes having kinky things with minors.
He represents the whole Xianity.
[Xian= Pedo. Understand this, your child will be safer]
Going on, to me sex is poetry, the semen is the joy that comes after being created in each other.
We are uncompleted rhymes, in sex we found our home, our own poetry.
Zepar to me is a great inspiration (He may be my Guardian) : shape-shifting not only means you're able to change your body, but artistically talking we can see the meaning of art mutating without losing its seed, in order to ascend to higher levels of existence.
Art is not a mean at all, art is the purpose.
Even the soldier can be art, as in His Purpose he is art.
Even the unaware boy who doesn't understand art, he's art when he reaches the orgasm, when he rebels, when he bites and spits.
I'll stop myself here. I'm not good at explaining what I write.
Hope you liked it.
Hail Satan!
Hail Zepar!
Hail figure of the past!
Hail All You!
