Eleven days until Christmas
And twenty angels got their wings
Their families won't celebrate
All the joy that Christmas brings

Up in heaven, dear St. Peter
Met the twenty at the gates
He said "Welcome children I give you love...
though I'm sure it's not your date"

He checked the records for their names
And said "I'm sure that something's wrong"
"You all are here too early...
This is not when you belong"

An herald angel came on down
And told St. Peter, it was true
they were victims of a devil
Who did the evil that men do

One child, ventured forward
And she asked "what of us now"
St. Peter said "you'll help God"
"and I will show you how"

"The world will mourn your passing
You'll stay forever in the hearts
Of your friends and of your parents
And that's just for a start"

"You will stay forever here as angels"
"You will help with many things"
Eleven days until Christmas
And Twenty Angels got their wings.

A Thousand Delicate Screams
A Symphony of Blood and Delirious Lust
Drunk on Chocolate and Sweet Mad Death
Gone are the days of Vision and Wind
Gone are all the Shadows of Power

When you kiss and nible a loved one you tap into the desire
to consume a loved one wholly, or wear them as attire. The
darkest side of human thrills is being without restraint & doing
what you want to her without a single complaint. Dominance
has always been the ultimate form of aggression. The urge to eat
another person is buried in obsession.

Emmaculate forests and mystical lands are *****
and abused by the very hands that live in luxury of
nature's grace. Thousands of years and we forgotten her face.
We're still in a schizm with each other and our surroundings
So out of place its out right confounding

A minute amount of madness
A smidgen of disregard
Every act a flagarant mirror
Of the surrounding Bizaar