Amon Amarth
Patricidal Lust
Spill your seed
Into my father's tears
His suffering
All over my body
His flesh
Seared into the object
The scent
Of his chest splayed open
Homoerotic

Patricidal Lust
Let me hold you in my arms one more time
Rest my head in your guts
I am held in blood
Warmth, sanguine, sublime

Fetishization
To bind Desire
Into chasms of suffering
Where the dead
Meet the living

And the impossible object
Burn of my father's tears and guts
Becomes my only true love

Lifeless, an object
Forever mourning in lust
An object, my only true love

Lust begins to wither
Then begins to splinter
From fetish to perversion
From mourning to elation

Emerged from his rectal cage
To breath the stench, the air, the passage
The object discovered dead
My palms turn skyward, loss of head

Emerge from the haven of his guts
From constant mourning
And fixation on my lust

Ancient forms, polymorphous rites
The sea, the wind
The world devoid
Of sexuality...