Aura Noir

The Rape
Merry, you may be. For I am the flesh in your tounge. Create to yourself, images of these glass-eyed figures, and expose to me, your skin - whorish as ever. They speak to me, your pores, your veins, in a rush of melancholy. In a stream of misantrophy. Remove the carpet, so I may be united with the shades of these. Blind my eyes, still I will see - presence, visuality. I grant you my pale hands, still I will feel - shape, contoures. Please leave. In me you wont find any pity, as the dog that howls for the light in my eyes - the stench or your nakedness, no smell for a mourner like me. So, please leave. In here you won¥t find any pity. Tour kisses were as hell itself. Be silent, for I am the flesh in your tounge. Only I can wear vast costumes of time, and still be present. "So, hereby I rape thee." From Letras Mania