Jaracaca - Circle Of Dead Children

Disemboweling all denomination with her penknife one stroke at a time

Sweet spirits

As she stares toward the back of her memories she stares through you

Blows through you like steam screaming through burst piping

His lips upon her breast

His tail within infant mouth

The sacrament has putrified but the vampires have come alive

Recklessly she gashes yet her guilt will never be severed