Deep within shadowy grottos,
I've been chased by her presence.
Unable to escape from below,
I've been faced by my penance,

My penance for letting her ****,
**** in the name of acceptance.

She wanted desperately to be accepted,
But The Haunter would never let her.
She could not run from her dreams,
So she fought to be intercepted,

Intercepted by her own insidious instinct,
By her own ghoulishly foul instinct.

Now I wake up with scars every night,
For her knives always find their way.
Now I'm chased with scars every night,
For her knives always want to pay,

To pay me for letting her ****,
To thank me in the name of acceptance.

Now I'm the one who can't run,
From myself and herself in my dreams,
For she's always watching me run,
In the dark and in silence of dreams,

In the dark of my own violent torment,
For giving her my loving acceptance.

Written by Ericson Willians.

Through the forests of an old desire,
I have trod with utmost fear and dread,
While I voluptuously fought with fire,
I've known the demons that there spread,

That spread in their fantastic evil,
Whispering ghastly secrets of the dead.

Wind was fierce in his ways most cryptic,
Speaking things of odds unspeakable.
I've learned what lurks in skies ecliptic,
Daring fiends of spheres unreachable.

They swarmed in myriads of dauntless imps,
Of horrid eyes and reddish wings.

Aghast I saw them eating flesh,
Of ghoulish creatures dead and fresh.
Their voice was as if chasm had mouth,
Yawning like stars past flaming south,

It roared most grisly in its despair,
As if my thoughts it used to share.

Through the forests of that old desire,
I have dwelt in caves of fear and dread,
While I voluptuously fought with ire,
Against the demons that there spread,

That spread in their unholy lust,
Bringing a Succubus of their trust,

For me to copulate with,
And not forget my secret lust.