My afflicting Evil precedes our God himself; at dawn was born in turbulent oceans, sunken ravines that few had trod, ripe with fruits of ever-present torment. People rejoiced at my each rising word, trees uproot with the gesture of my hand. Though I am shepherd to my joyous herd, no more joy have I in rule, nor command. I feel my hidden beat hissing faintly. My palace is but a prison of dread; so unrelentlessly, unceasingly do ancient curses echo from the dead.
Now he treads in swamps of malevolence, forever trapped in blind obedience.
Worship and glorify Jesus With Praises and songs Praises to raise our voices To worship and sing songs To honor the Lord Awesome and glorious Beautiful and always the King Of our Salvation who watches Protecting the ones who look
The shrine of Madonna stood tall, The high king’s rapier fell down, not anymore was he the young prince, for he was devoid of all feelings. The shrine of Madonna stood strong, The high king’s blood washed the ivory pedestal,
I am Lucifer the Prince of daemons which I command like a bunch of minions, for with them I annex realms and subjects who are no more than heavenly rejects, distinct from Saints; the apples of God’s eye. In Eden’s
I heard sweet voices sing Fragrance of wild flowers in spring A thrown of gold for a King To watch His courtier dance and sing The Queen sits by His side Watching the fair maidens Trying to steal Her pride
There once was a King, who lived in a castle, in a Kingdom of his own. He had everything, royalty could bring, except; he was alone. Since love wasn’t there, his castle was bare, just a building made out of