In Torment They Live

from Human Inadequacy by The Benegesserit

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lyrics

Sibilant whispers in the night
Feeding on mortal fears

In torment they live and pain is their tool of the trade
< They slither down the corners of your mind>
In darkness they dwell, insanity gleams on the edge of the blade

Ensnaring thoughts and planting notions of corruption and decay
Consume your very doubts, they push you over the edge

Where the fiery pits yawns its unfathomable depths
(Writhing as serpents coiled in the darkness), they invade your thoughts

Phobophage – Eaters of the soul
Dissecting individuality

(They sire insidious impulses, raping your core)
(They strip you of your essence)

Eroding the last vestiges of sanity away
Until you tumble down into the fire pit
Serpents writhing whispering your name
Hissing sibilantly words of comfort and luring you down

A sense of purpose graces your brutalized ego
You have been chosen to be their tool

An honor such as no mortal man has known
Is bestowed upon the
Setting life free is breaking the boundaries of death
Killings is an art
A performance act of holy purpose

You must do the work
You must not be caught
Your higher calling
Will not be understood