Devilcrazy God Thirteen

I am not only a color**
 But lately 17 and 3
 As the 11th will eventually die.
 Time is brief and never longer
 Therefore I allow my shoulder to bury
 And all my fingers line one by one
 Then I can deny the black hole
 And deeply fold in a chasity of insights
 Next time we listen to your blood and it results in the sin of my strangled sprat as half watch the loud pitch laugh in your vicinity
 And the evilly humored temptation tarnish fruit-bearing Suicide
 My saddle will skid no further into tomorrow
 And in 1955 the dead will die in the infernal oblivion of my own domain
 However, we won't conquer like Erinnyen in page two but rather stalk our soulless nature in 3 shades of grey
 To Caress a delusion sometimes causes a peculiar presence which behaves how a deeply sunken razor would sound in blood and consequently our echos let a glow in the breastless Bestiarium.
 No
 As my poisoned Shadows broke in two from the Zodiacal Light and only farther a displeased death of the struggling odoring
 Shock of a horned blade in the perfection of Animalistic Lust
 Decorating itself in a disgusting Vesture
 Bacchanten Climbed Icy Abysses yet, it won't Bring Forth the tender damnation
 Necessity to breed is blinded by the Oviparious yearn for death.
 And those not against God & Lucifer are suspicious
 A dissolute force highhandedly requires danger
 When Death Rings for several luckless Maids
 Bluish Anarchy will instill over the Gates of Naked lust
 Only an elder enrichment of the boiling-points to forgive my life
 Will the Blasphemic Origin contribute to all the Graven Feet of the downfall.