Sta.sh
| Lord Loss sows all the sorrows of the world Lord Loss seeds the grif-starched trees In the center of the web, lowly Lord Loss bows his head Mangled hands, naked eyes Fangled snaked his soul line Curled inside like textured sin Bloody, curdled sheets for skin In the center of the web, vile Lord Loss torments the dead Over strands of red, Lord Loss crawls Dispensing pain, despising al Shuns friends, nurtures foes Ravages hope, breeds woe Drinks moons, devours suns Twirls his thumb till the reaper comes In the center of the web, lush Lord Loss is all that's left |
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on Black Magic! 
