Nailing some coffins, so my victims can't crawl out of it 
Seeing dead memories of my love, don't worry she's alive she just dead to me 
Phasmophobia, I'm tryna document what type of bitch, she is 
Halloween, spooky shit, better order up some crucifix
My eyes, they burn dominion, no color 
no mercy only hate
An aura so hungry for power, it bursts into a deep purple flame 
The suffering of a sith'ari 
Glowing yellow eyes, look at my fucking face
Bare feet walking on the cold empty road
Misty fog blowing through my curly hair 
The smell of fear in my bloody nose 
Yet the calm breeze hits the booze 
I'm a failure at everything 
From driving cars, working jobs, managing relationships 
I've done it all whether full or part time 
Doesn't mean shit 
Just a fucked up prick who can't end his shit 
So he just bathes in misery and disease hoping for something to end his life so quickly 
What a tragedy 
Such poetic philosophy 








Apostle (Prod. Wyte Trash x Stygian Saint)

Continuing to grow and change as a whole and evolve each day. Conflicted with the light and dark. Member of Thy 🔮Guerrilla Records 🔮

https://linktr.ee/stygiansaint


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