I know someone who would be pleased to hear this

I confess the hunger in my chest,
I confess the years I faked,
I confess the god I put to rest—
in the grave my hands have made.

No priest, no crown—
just teeth and truth and underground.

Confiteor diaboli—
peccavi in nocte, peccavi in me.
Confiteor diaboli—
da mihi ignem, da mihi fidem.

I confess the love that turned to hate,
I confess the holy theft,
I confess I’ll gladly seal my fate—
if the door is truly left.

No hymns above—
just drums and blades and violent love.

Confiteor diaboli…

I confess the bite, the vow, the stain,
I confess the final breath,
I confess I’d burn the world again—
to feel you in my death.

In nomine… not the son—
in the name of the undone.

Confiteor diaboli…

The Blue

Acid Bath

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