Wellspring of power,
Stored in pure biomass.
Beelzebub Stratagems.
Oh Reaper,
I loved you so.
Or Is It Just Aubrey Fucking Plaza Now?
Failing.
Succeeding.
All relative,
Really.
My dark romance with death,
Is two freight trains,
Passing full speed at midnight,
Horns echoing up my moonlit valley.
Beelzebub Stratagems.
