Something immense strenght calls from inside.
Imagination calls to a mystic place.
Which is last and determining place.
This perpetual effection becomes stronger
untill it takes me entirely.
Untill he undersand what he must.
Finally to undersand the darkness.
He tries to concentrate into his soul.
bringing out his real self.
Flying to the absurd part.
Slowly standing at the enterance of hell.
In full wickedness.
Totally deformed.
Perfectly transformed.
Looking the other sides of things.
Brutally massacring.
Fantasy borns.
The soul cuts an opening into the body.
Now Satan's son raves...