DoomRaven

I thrive under the overcast gardens of the dead . Each tombstone , a flower in my eye. And the tolling bell of Saint Ivens church ,resounding as the law , unleashing legions of rain . Sweet rain , that will grow new headstones. Thriving, Thriving amongst all perished things I will . This is my home , my perfect necropolis . Where , I Uverthalmus perch my talons on the grit of old stone , overseer of a Anti- vivacious kingdom . Void and spilling dusk... is preferable to lesions of a compromised state . The rarity of uncompromised visitors , when at last a corpsebride visits Uver's kingdom . I the black Thalmus spy the bride slither through the cragged gate that other mortals faired had cealed the bait of such an antiquity from the retro world. But I Uverthalmus spy the bride! Squeezing her pallid frame through my door to inquire sights of an ancient mire . Raven hair , lips full and ebony as a starless paradise . Thighs proportioned avant , and pallid , framed in a tattered solid ichor . And duly her waist sways to the pull of my kingdoms glory .