mad papacy.

its a mark of insanity, wicked branded and blasphemy, bodies stacking from the panic, cause the massive calamity. marked by death for the tragedy. within the vortex of your cortex to paint complex the new tapestry. bow your head to the mastery, puppets strings hold the lock and key, to find your death is not the end twist into some other happening. written in a riddle never figured by falacy. hold your breath when you pray to thee and hear the whispered mad papacy. why do they all laugh at me. had enough now prepare to be, dismantled by the handle very same was bestowed on me.