madmans_dream Norm Writhe and twist you wretched hearted man, hatred claims your black and hardened soul and marks it with it's blood red brand... charred on it's hide, wrinkled with sin. As death approaches he desires nothing more than to leave your withered, cold corpse here on this unforgiving terrain. As he escorts you deep within the bowels of our dying mother earth you can see her tortured scars cut deep by your claws of industry, you can hear the echoed cackles of sadistic demons and the pain fraught screams of the eternally damned. Plea for mercy if the hope of escape eases your troubled heart, but you've built this endless hall of your damnation and it is here you must sit, staring the love child of your icy, unforgiving decisions in life for all of time. Coil yourself, plug your ears, and cover your eyes but no plug can deafen these piercing sirens and no cover can hide this blinding darkness. Here is Lucifer's workshop, where true evil toils at the art of pain and sculpts genuine masterpieces of temptation. To see this dark angel work, with his ageless experience and perfect tool, compares simply to two colossus planets colliding and combining in perfect harmony, only to explode and send flying shattered fragments of pure emptiness through the heart of space and time, murdering that of creation. This genius, dripping with unkempt evil and armored y a polished aura of despair, saw your impatience and offered you this semi-paradise, quick and easy, yet fleeting. You drooled at the opportunity and signed that concrete contract with your own running blood; he has your name in stone. You'll maintain his massive galleries of your loved ones' agonies, everyday, forever reminded of what you left behind. Clean up your consuming mess and forever bare your heavy debt. Each morning needles pierce your skin alerting your ice pinched mind to slip back into sanity for another eternity of torture. Showered with the stench of cowards and rubbed violently with a brick of flaming destruction, you prepare for your meal of parasite infested famine and cold, slimy starvation. For your viewing pleasure, displayed is the most feared inventions plucked from deep within your most restless and agitated piece of subconscious. In your immortal state you are beaten beyond death, experiencing pain and anguish unfathomable to any merciful human body. "Remember what awaits you in the afterlife, I will haunt your dreams until you arrive" said the faceless abomination, messenger of Satan. A young man awakens, in a gigantic room, warm and comfortable, surrounded by the products of his sinful riches and this glorious monument built to his success, a smile and the sun beaming on his face, he chirps "Looks like it's going to be my kind of day" 011220 ... hydrochloric puppy there were laser_nuts in my cereal they damn near shot me in the eye 011221 what's it to you? who go blather from