A sinister telepathy is screaming at forgotten fears An exit made of your self-destruction, may your reflection guide the blade. In your lost code of self knowledge, a mere entrance for evil to enter The venom is hidden and the venom wears a mask (I serve myself upon the wings of pains affliction, unto thee). Disсonnect from my state of being (and without a trace) it was my soul that murdered yours. that murdered yours.