Babylon: Aborting the Harlot
Hallowed Butchery of the Son
the earth is at rest.
and the trees they sing.
the city, but ash.
and vanity is in its grave.
the more we play.
(the more maggots beneath you.)
the louder we scream.
(the more worms to eat you.)
(for those that attempt to raise their throne up higher than his
shall be cast from the heavens into the depths of the pit.)
and i'am still waiting for this whore to... die.
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