Locusta

Born of violence
Raped in the sunset
Left to dissect with a mother's praise
Everything seems so familiar
Exercise my voice as it burns

The smell for singed hair and babies burning skin
While yet I live may it all be consumed
Given desires
Behold my locusta
A touch of poison
Cold in soft hands

Little brother you shake with the toxin
No breath
No words
Mother too is on her deathbed
Her pussy's wet with lion's blood
Shining in all her absence
She seems so alive

Make me immortal
Wrapped in animal skin
Wet with lions' blood
Invert the cross

I will violate you
I am the antichrist
What an artist will die in me