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Despised Icon Album


The Healing Process (04/05/2005)
04/05/2005
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Carry the burden, sedated by a clouded moment. As strength fades away, self-pity turns into nauseating grief. Desecrate my frail lungs and limbs. Anatomical balance tarnished. Affliction's kiss. Somatic functions inhibited. I stand tall to endure suffering then collapse in a heartbeat. Longing for bulletproof scales to shield myself from this round of Russian roulette. My aching throat weeps crimson tears. A faint whisper taunts my ears. Scars spread their roots within my arms. I stand tall to endure anguish knowing that my tombstone has not yet been carved. Longing for bulletproof scales to shield myself from the next round of Russian roulette. Empathy revives the enemy lying within. A weakness so graceful, it blooms. I loathe everyone's concern for my undying flaws. Remember a time when my anger was nothing but a blank page. Desperately needing to regain my thirst for optimism. Carry the burden, sedated by a clouded moment. As strength fades away, self-pity turns into nauseating grief. Hope is forsaken


. . .



The art of silencing people. Murdering enemies is such a pleasurable task. Suppress any possible living/breathing threat from the equation. Empowered by the poisonous touch of my silver plated advocate, I gently squeeze its trigger to paint him red. Decide a man's fate and impersonate god. I softly pull its trigger to pierce his flesh. Organs and ammunition properly acquainted with one another. My love for the gun grows stronger. Dedicated to extinction. My aim is as bold as his arrogance. I smile proudly as he trembles in the line of fire. The sight of a human spirit's weariness brings joy to this beholder. Witness the priceless look on his face as he savors the final moment of his shameful existence. The sight of a human spirit's weariness brings joy to this beholder. I aim for his head as I empty my charger in his direction. His blood stained tie and shirt will leave a lasting impression now that he's been put to sleep by the lethal injection of my smoking barrel


. . .



Praise my immaculate skin complexion. Cherish these symmetrical features. I maintain my poise on this pedestal. If looks could kill, my charms would scatter faceless dead bodies everywhere. Like an over-exposed medallion hanging around my neck, ostentation glitters. Perfect visibility is an asset. I reach for its crown. Disseminated black roses follow my every step. A mirror's reflection is so soothing. A stunning self-portrait reveals itself. Immortalize this flawless creation. Each step feels like a stroll on the red carpet. Perfect visibility is an asset, a coronation. Modesty can only reduce one's pride to ashes. My chin points towards a grey sky: superiority. I only look down on other beings: inferiority. Immaculate. The annihilation of every larvae would not sadden me. Immaculate. My contempt for the living elevates my one true love to a higher rank. Diminish a hero to embellish my dignity. Perfect visibility is an asset, a crown held up high. I will sit alone on my throne. I will sit alone on my throne. I will sit alone on my throne. I will sit alone on my throne. Secluded


. . .



It's been seven nights since my latest craving. An urge so compelling, it consumes my every thought. Drawn by the glare of your flaming lips, fascinated by the way your touch turns everything to ashes. The buildings I've burned can no longer satisfy this tragic attraction. I must strike once more tonight. These callous hands have tamed the forbidden flame. Awaiting culmination, I anticipate our final celebration. Introduce yourself gently to Jennifer. I've kept you both apart all this time. Ignited by your awkward presence, she begins to dance. Consternation is so elegant. You can see the fever in her eyes. The smell of burning blonde hair pervades my heart with lust. Thick black smoke fills the room as her skin darkens. Fire suits you well. Blazing kerosene has veiled the lovely expression on her face. Brûlée, elle s'éteint à petit feu. Seduced by Jennie's singed eyebrows, I lay down next to her heated corpse. Awaiting the same fate. As my blood starts to boil, I seek redemption. Please incinerate my sins. My flesh is slowly burning. I grin as my remains deteriorate. At last, I can savor the wrath of your flames. Witness my decline


. . .



Standing alone inside a frantic crowd with incriminating facts in hand. An imperative vision of satisfaction. My overwhelmed pupils contain illegible mortification. I feel the numbness of an orgasm as I leave my entire body. Endorphins are released, generating complete ecstasy. Standing alone inside a frantic crowd with incriminating facts in hand. An imperative vision of satisfaction. My overwhelmed pupils contain illegible mortification. I feel the numbness of an orgasm as I leave my entire body. Inside my cerebral cortex lies an ultimate pleasure better than any sensation. Turned into a powerless corpse, I succumb. My brain's mechanical capacity has clearly stopped running. Restrictions of flesh… A magenta fluid escorts my soul to a perfect and reflexive coma as I decline within this ideal trance. I can no longer feel pain. I only see my blackened blood flowing out of my veins, my carnal shroud. I'm not furious about what you've wrecked. In fact, I want to thank you, I want to love you. My blood flows. But at this instant, I'm not furious. No need to say a word. I leave with fervor covering my heart


. . .



This desire is so annoying, like a red hot rock in my palm. My nerves hurt and my legs convulse. Walking on broken glass. The soporific serenity permanently reflected in your charming face gives you jurisdiction. A soiled soul infects the spine during a segment of time. Particles of truthfulness suppurate from this almost perfect being. The eye of satisfaction disappears to give place to arrogance and discontent. I wait for a crucial gateway between trickery and facts. Someday the sun will vanish and give place to an appalling night. With cutting words I shall perforate this Kevlar curtain and leave you bare without protection. Beneath this strong and fierce eloquence, I will face what truly is your frail archetype. Guns and knives can hurt physically or even cause your demise while speech and illustrations can mentally hurt and guide to suicide. The eye of satisfaction disappears to give place to arrogance and discontent. The Mozart effect reveals a newborn confidence. The reptilian brain is now the one involved, the one that will conquer them all


. . .



Looking through a stained window, I wish for better days. Yesterday's promise of brighter colors has been tarnished by shades of deception. The calendar has been stripped of all its pages. My watch no longer tells time. Its rusted gears silently watched the months pass by. Happiness is a fallacy. What was taken for granted now seems so precious. I look back and remember when a smile was as priceless as the sun. On ne récolte pas toujours ce que l'on sème. My path slowly ends as bridges burn. Hardship follows my footsteps. I try to walk a straight line. The blood of a martyr runs through my veins. Desperate thoughts cloud my conscience. Hope is a withered flower that never dies. A passage into forlorn. The blood of a martyr runs through my veins. Yesterday's promise of brighter colors has been tarnished by shades of deception. Struggle to pick up the scattered pieces. Evanescent hands caress my neck to suffocate the pride that's left inside. Calmness only brings back memories. Suffocate. I try to sleep and forget what you have ruined


. . .



Harvesting the deceased. Artificial tissues made in laboratories. Engineered cells reinforced. Praising complex metamorphosis. Harvesting the deceased. A DNA structure adapted by scientists. Praising complex metamorphosis. Crafting highly gifted men with vivisected embryos. A prenatal diagnostic. Purity's end. Decayed beings renewed inside a flask then hosted in a mother's womb. Progression will be our downfall The deceased are brought back to life and replicated for servitude. Technology will be our demise. And tomorrow, they will surpass the average human. After our own death, conventional men will cease to be pertinent, out numbered by offsprings. Witness the end of mankind. The Beta version is in place. A horrendous vision of chimera's altered characteristics. The Beta version has taken our place


. . .



Everything comes to an end. Castrate my tool, store it safely in a jewel case and throw away the key. Separation has tainted my comely sunny skies. Regret flows out of these open wounds. Rain on my parade. My confidence is soaked. Laughter has now lost all of its sincerity. Emptiness persists. I've never felt this much anger. A silent nemesis grins. I've never felt this much anguish. A pledge to inflict it tenfold. Shed these butterfly wings. Regain your larval state. Converge with every other insect. Your lips are sown with rusted barbwire. Swim in guilt to regain my trust. Stabbed in the back by a bitter secret. A portrait painted black. Shed these butterfly wings. Regain your larval state. My heart is abandoned on a silver plate. Her silence is as cold as a lifeless teenage corpse. Her delicate beauty has lost all of its purity. Her pale white skin marked by the foul sent of treachery. Castrate my tool, store it safely in a jewel case and throw away the key. Separation has tainted my comely sunny skies. I'll remember this day


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