The tragic “mask” that enhances the immortal mind.
The New Moon to ruin, but this ain’t the Boston Bruin.
Having to adjust, and I already proved my point.
Your last class act was to pretend to anoint.
So your salvation is wasted, I smell your fear and taste your blood.
To manipulate matter, to pretend that I love.
In other words, I’m soft as a dove, but my venom the color of black.
To worship my Gods, this is Alni(TAK).
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