BOSOM MOTH-EATEN: GRIM DEADPAN GROWTH—LAMB DEMISE SOUR SCORE CLOT GORE: 90' 🩸🪦
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ/
ㅤㅤroaming through the swamp of
ㅤㅤdormant gloom, in a scope of
ㅤㅤmaggot pole suck nicompoop.

umbra risk, murmur forlorn from abaft the faint bitter end. vet soil abandoned through spook foul, phantom ground scratched
scrimpy cruel diabolic. 15:

ㅤㅤㅤENDㅤTHEㅤCRUXㅤDUMB
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ\
ㅤㅤㅤtwaddle dolt   168:00ㅤ👁?

 
NUIT SILENCIEUSE (‘1979: L'HEURE DU BRUIT.) 🫀

LA─NUIT & Screams Of Agony
Drown Out Whoever Hears /. Want
To Hear Tragic Stories. 🩸

Those Souls That Have Not Found Their Vessel, Cast Off Their Captivating ‘LUMINOUS’ Souls To Another Realm. I Am The Soul With A Vessel: 🦇 (‘A Castle Full Of Evil With The Faithful Raven.)

“PERDU─SANS DIRECTION─LE
DIEU N'EST PAS CRUEL”
/
👁 ‘Heaven For Souls Consumed IN
DARKNESS CROWS IN THE WOODS.
 
 

                                 
      LINGERING WISP OF MELANCHOLY
      DRIFTING  THROUGH  CATHEDRAL.
                                  /
      In   The   Hollow   Hush  Of  Twilight
      Fragile Ghosts Murmur Velvet Tone
      (Cradled  In A Dusk-Born Requiem.)
           

                               
VEILED BY NOCTURNAL REVERIE AND
THE QUIET.. ACHE OF OLD SHADOWS
SHROUDED IN A SOMBER SPLENDOR.

(Obscure-Reveries-Threads.) In the quiet umbra of the night, I drift through a corridor of dusky murmurs, carrying the faint redolence of withered roses and half-forgotten longing. The air feels saturated with an ancient hush, a kind of velvet stillness that presses against the skin like a lingering.

           SHADOWS THOSE LANGUID
       DELIBERATE PHANTOMS—FOLD
                                  •
       SOUL A WANDERING THROUGH
           OBSIDIAN HUSH, STITCHED

                                 🦇             
Somewhere above, the moon hangs like a pallid sentinel, its glimmer fractured into silvery motes that tremble on the edge of recognition. Every step feels woven with obscure reveries, threads of somber splendor, and a strange, aching gentleness that refuses to vanish.

                

                                           
                          BLOODY SADICITY.
                          (Thick Walls of Hell)
                                            /
      LOST SOUL:    08.     0C,   900.
                     \
      (Spectral Whispers Coil.)
      N.D, CRIMSOON MOONS