You tried to use grave yard dirt to bury me in effigy. I'm not dead. I can feel you cutting the heads off voodoo dolls, ritually beheading me. All that and I'm still here and your right to fear the bum rush. I telempathically crush your Chakras one by one and feed on the light that was designed to guide you through the night. When you was so busy invoking spirits that walk with me, they were the ones that told me you was the one steady sweating me.
I gets cold. I gets darker than the hole in your soul. Mine is the voice that whispers in the back of your mind making you insecure, unsure about everything and everyone, making you make enemies out of your loved ones as you completely lose control.
Boo, you fucked up because I'm always hungry.
So, I slowly devour what borrowed power you took from spirit, elemental, nature, witch or book. I leave you constantly shook as I crack your aura with telepathic machetes because im petty and feed on your astral and psychic body. I take your Ti Bon Ange to the abyss where it stays lost and where you never will have the balls to look.
Anyone who try's to help you? My KA and KHAIBIT will beat them too. My soul is Sumerian old and descended from the lillitu. Woe to all who don't know that if anyone gets in my fucking way, It'll be a buffet because I'll eat them too.
While you work with oils and herbs, I damage your mind with my thoughts and verbs. Remember, when you curse me with fetishes and bindings, I become the deity you worship and I destroy you with whispered words.
I shape-shift into the power you want most and turn against you. I possess you and ride you like the loa in a voodoo ceremony to grind and press you.
I drink your power, your will, your life force, hopes and dreams. Poor thing, you underestimated me apparently. As I rip out your sanity I promise, I'll fill the empty space up with the very same grave yard dirt you tried to use to bury me.
No comments:
Post a Comment