Soul Grip
carnet de deuil
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Worship me, I'm not like the actor who's lungs are filled with black bile.
Forgive me, I'm not like the pastor who's hands have touched every child.
Worthless me, I'm not like the shaman who cries out to the souls of the altar.
Dismiss me, I'm not like the saint who's mind has penned down every psalter.
and
throw
them
into
the
fiery
furnace,
where
there
will
be
weeping
and
gnashing
of
teeth. Matthew 13: 50.
- Album:
- Avadon