An experiment with horror and the number nine. Supposedly, a satanic number. |
The criminals and I did gather At the rotting corpse of a castle Bound in wickedness and in anger This ground would soon become our temple In the forest, we were as demons A coven of sadistic creatures To slake our lusts, avoiding prisons We liv'd humbly with some strange features Our bandit camp conceal'd our dealings The wither'd foundations serv'd us well With wooden walls and canvas ceilings We erected our impromptu hell Lost and damn'd upon the ancient track Deflowering the verdant ruins Wrath unleash'd, "there is no turning back A grim infernal rite now begins" With murder did our grand games commence Our souls did burst with a darken'd fire Desecration lasts centuries hence We invok'd hate and unclean desire Blood, sweat, tears, flesh, bones, breasts, and organs Decorated well the weathered stone As did the sever'd heads of orphans To remind us that we weren't alone Our victims stayed with us forever For their shrill screams were as works of art And their deaths bless'd bonds none could sever For I loved each one with all my heart We morbid band of cold blasphemers Stole innocents from their daily lives Off'ring their souls to our sweet masters By the thrust of our ritual knives In sacrifice we gave them freedom Empowering them with Evil's mark They'd reign as gods in Satan's Kingdom While we earthly pilgrims stalk'd the dark |