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Skoptsy of The Lord

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Masticating shards of glass,
Swallow it with pride
Means nothing
All metaphors aside

Tip'toeing on hot coal,
The ichor of the gods bleeds through his perforated veins.
"Mother, become me",
He commands Aphrodite as he gazes to the church ceiling, with his hands positioned in a dramatic, theatrical posture, although unnecessary for the ritual. Overwhelmed with anhedonia, the Lord longes for sexual transformation. He flays the flesh from his cock with a cheese grate and basks it in lemon juice for the Holy Ablution. I am in so much pain. Please Help Me
He faints from the excruciating agony. Unable to ensue with the penectomy himself, Mother materializes in Her Most Holy Form and viciously detaches his member with a serrated blade. Warm red crimson gorgeously paints the floor of the temple.
Mother and the Lord of the Maggots share an unspoken agreement as their sightless eyes meet.
He cannot speak. The mutual love is so true that it cannot be expressed with human words.
The skoptsy is complete.
 
Can you hear me? Can you feel me? I cannot see thru these bleeding eyes. Encapsulated by the razors that have become wind, any step could yield terrible laceration of the flesh; more PAIN.

"Mother!", his delayed echoing voice reverberates due to the realm's echolalia. How tormenting. Shielding his eyes, The Lord stumbles over a partially decayed carcass of a fiend. He lies weeping, whimpering like a hyena, still shielding his bleeding eyes. Four minutes and twenty seconds elapse. The whimpering is replaced with hysterical laughter as He assumes the cliche prayer position and calls onto our Amoral God for swift deliverance from this madness.
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Born again, The Lord inserts the pinky nail of his finger inside his urethra and scrapes out green gunk to insufflate. Societal pigs wallow around in their shit and filth; feeding from the vomitus.
"Where be the abode of your leader? Where it is at?", the Lord inquires a sniveling swine. The societal pig looks around discombobulated, then plops on its back with its stubby legs spread in anticipation of being fucked and slaughtered. How devious.
"No, you idiot. Which of you livestock can direct me to your overlords? Where does it be?"

A self-righteous hog laden with an archetypal cowl of illusion responds; "Check the magic box with moving pictures, madame."
Apparently, my sexual dimorphism is indiscernible with this uncultured, degenerate species. A "television" was presented to the Lord.
 
Teeth grinding
Bald head shining
He plunges the knife in the pig's intestinal lining
Repeatedly then immediately
Turns greedily vehement
With murderous sentiment
Grimace as the blood hits the cement
Some gets in his mouth
He bites through the trachea
Gnarls
Then rips their gizzards out
About to explode from the rage
The necrophage stages an
Escape from the mental cage
25 years in a psychotic prison
Nobody will listen
Envision the distant apparition
An exhumed ex-human
With multiple ocular incisions
Can you see me?
Mother?
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I represent nothing
The entropic flowers of doom are budding
Through the cracks of your human gravel
Travel to the house of judgement
Nudge my coffin nails with your gavel
Paddle through the mulch
And quicksand
Demand the mercy
Of this God you do not understand
Canned morality expired
With your selfish survivalism
Usurped by tribalism
Undesirable, but longstanding
Like priapism
Inside a prism of anguish
The famous violator burns
Speaking a hellish language
Await for his return

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Yessss. Deflesh the blackened skin. Peer within the Nubian artist.
Heartless like you hate me.
Regardless, berate me.
Sedate me with your boisterous
And seige this
Negus, befuddled by the sweetest amniotic fluid from the fetus
Devious sacrifices solidify my deified pose
Rose-golden statues stand erect behind my palace
Ceremonial mallets crush
Enemies' palates with malice
Callous met with amoral indifference
Warps the mind
In an existential emergency
Screams from the invasive surgery
Complement the boorish insurgency
I am not dead YET
The arrival of my disciples stifle
My opponents` intrusion
Illusory hallucinogenics
Dilute acute delusions
Of reality
Gradually fallacies are disclosed
By malleable throes of intense suffering
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I cannot believe that i am alive
The concept is absurd in its inception
Surreptitious secrets kept
By the reception
Of totality
What is this-
Mystic nature of consciousness and physics?
Exquisite galactic clusters
Muster me flustered
Usher me to the Designer's filibuster
Explain to me please
What is all of THIS?❔
 
The Lord inquires the heavens. Initially, I desired something, now I want nothing and am gratified with whatever. The narrative is perplexing for the perspective is not fixed. Could this be indicative of the Emergence of the Behemoth? Allow him to explain; existentially, there is only so much a mortal can endure before he dismantles his own psyche. We have trekked beyond the point. What lies here is this interpretation of what? NOTHING

OR

Shall I expose to thou thee most grotesque display to behold?
 
Bewildered by his own inquiry,
Dreary as noon approaches.
His violated form resurfaces in a squalid shack full of roaches.
Regurgitating the force-fed bile.
All the while, trying to decrypt this pile of shit writing style.
He smiles and realizes the message, to him, is inherently understood.
The night is jet black
He wonders if he should wander in the woods
If He could
Seek something which appeases him
For Nothing no longer pleases him
 
The vicinity of the copse becomes warm,
Then the Lord encounters Aphrodite in Her Animal Form.

"MOTHER!"

"Yes, my dear. It is I, your Eternal Lover. What throes be there that yields you to suffer? "

-"Evil lies. Deceitful lives. I cannot feel with these crushed hands. I cannot see through these bleeding eyes," he replies. "I cannot die."
 
The Lord falls to his knees in a sedentary position as he implores Aphrodite to end his tormented life. He no longer wishes to be a eunich of the skoptsy. He longes for nothing.

Mother morphs from Her Animal Form (a starfish) into a bipedal mammalian hominid. She places her small soft Asian hand on her barely 18 year old virgin pussy and two fingers of her other hand inside the Lord's mouth. Her exposed nipples erect from the cold, she manually stimulates her cunt while shoving her fingers inside his mouth simultaneously , sliding them across his tongue. The Lord allows this with no contesting or assistance. The Lord vomits when she jabs her fingers too far down his trachea.

"Yes, my love. FEED YOUR MOTHER!", Aphrodite exclaims.

The Lord's vomiting has become cyclical at this point. Mother moves herself closer to him as to allow her 18 year old delicate petite Asian virgin body to be showered with vomitus. She rolls her eyes in ecstasy as her nude physique is drenched in hot puke. She rubs in the vomitus over her body so that it is equally viscous throughout. She even places some of the slimy gunk on the tip of her tongue in a risque manner to please The Gods.
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The Lord collapses into a quasi hypnotic slumber similar to the semiconscious experience before REM sleep. He hears the sound of an infant cooing and keeps fantasizing about postmortem anilingus. He ceases trying to localize the sound of the infant then ponders how could a human being throw a baby ten feet in the air and feed its splattered remains to Rottweilers? How can a catamite harbouring pederast be a spiritual leader? The image of a swarthy little girl sways from a tree. Thee utmost vile elations of mankind come to the Lord in visions. It is only a matter of time before they go thermonuclear and eradicate totality.

The visions begin to fade as the Lord of the Maggots regains consciousness ......
 
Bewildered by his own inquiry,
Dreary as noon approaches.
His violated form resurfaces in a squalid shack full of roaches.
Regurgitating the force-fed bile.
All the while, trying to decrypt this pile of shit writing style.
He smiles and realizes the message, to him, is inherently understood.
The night is jet black
He wonders if he should wander in the woods
If He could
Seek something which appeases him
For Nothing no longer pleases him

Great writing!!
 
Upon opening his eyes
The Lord meets a scarab
Mother has dematerialized
He's beseeched to switch his speech to Arab:

Greetings Beetle
Tell me of the error in people
The terror n' evil
As i level my heroin needle

Lord, all that you survey,
The disgust
Trust in your perverse lust
To ignore it if you must
Plus
I have another secret to discuss
Travel to the Egyptian tomb
Sacred Room of the sarcophagus
Hide me in Mother's womb or consumed in your esophagus
If you opt out of this
You won't find solace
in this winter's solstice
You will OD in a hospice
Or the floor
Of a psychiatrist's office
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The words of the Scarab stung like a herpes blister rubbed against the interior of denim jeans. The Lord was inclined to comply. He and his insect accomplice embark on a journey to Africa. Nine tenths of their journey to the site of the Great Pyramids, they stop at a local harem for unsheathed lascivious festivities. Upon entering the dilapidated bordello, they are approached by the Mistress whose blouse could barely contain the spillage from her heavily lactating breasts. Her hijab emphasized her tempting eyes.
"Apologies gentlemen, this whorehouse is no longer operable due to a recent outbreak of parasitic trichomoniasis."

"Well", replied the Lord, "we shall fuck thou instead."

"I hope you bad boys are into anal because our Amoral God has stricken me with vaginal agenesis"

Scarab and the Lord mutually concur.

"Ok. The price is 33 paper monies to proceed with my bodily, vile elation."

Scarab and the Lord pay the whore. The Lord performs a dance and holy ritual for The Gods as he bends the Mistress over and licks her asshole pristine clean. He annoints the Scarab with his blessing and inserts the insect into her rectum. She squirms as she senses the Scarabs tiny legs rapidly scurrying about her colon. The milk from her lactating breasts has become more profuse. The Lord rhythmically dances around, chanting, silently weeping because he just remembered that his cock is missing due to the recent ceremonial penectomy. He licks the milk and tears from the floor like a kitty cat. The Scarab exits her anus abruptly, accidentally causing a horrific rectal prolapse, "LORD! We must part with this whore for we are on a time limit! Apologies, Lord, I just recalled!"

"May I join your party, for I am by my lonesome ?", Mistress hurriedly asks as she stuffs the protruding colon back into her anus.
"I shall protect thee with the intestinal fortitude of a mujahideen! "الموت للإمبريالية!" she proclaims as she heroically brandishes a golden AK74, presumably from Saddam's former palace.

Follow the Lord as his Disciple......fuckin bitch"
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