I was attacked by a robber, a copy-cat clown, and a masquerading tattoed skateboarder all on their way down – fell off from up. Mad at good so their bad will abounds. They cut up my spirit flesh and consumed it without rest. All wicked demons, dark spectres of hate – clearly unworthy of GOD’s great. Mercy.
A triple wreck effect of the worst that’s been or yet to be. Made more of classless and misery. Never ye fret. My Father healed me so I’m the better. They all will die in regret. Living’s off the table by the tick of their registered clock. Just demonic cannibals, hooved animals, cyclops, shadow dwellers, and nosferatu. I know what the LORD will make of you. The worse than hell crew just here for a ‘lil, ‘lil while.
Adios, goodbye, and bonjour to my suffering at their hands. I don’t speak to demons. They should stop trying to be pseudo Christians with apparel while existing and preaching disbelief. They front and announce with the one-eye vagaband that they really only honor satan.
Stans and fans of… that evil. Unworthy even as dust or toxic rust. Rot made not.
by Jerriè McGill
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