Bâtarde (Guerrière III)
de Sacred Flute
Have mercy upon us
God will save us all?
It's flesh concealing a horrific nightmare
A corpse pile
Skin outstretched across a scourge of terror
Fear the blood
My blade is guided by the holy Moon
A spectral wound
Accursed, the mind has melted
It's not getting better
No comprehending the evils upon us
Baptized in opal shadows
My eyes are filtered with depraved umbra
Ingest the silver waters
Desperate cries while skinned alive
Rotting faster
This vessel is a useless fucking husk to me
Imbue me with pain and entropy
I am sickened by the sight
My skin outstretched across a bleeding skull
I'm horrified
How could this happen? I was sent by God to purify
I am the accursed, and you have been sent here to die
Please kill me, for I must pay for what I've done
I am sickened when I see my own reflection in the blood
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