The madman

The madness surrounding your illness. I complete the system by puling down the stripes of salvation. Hell is neither living nor dying. Perdition awaits us all sometime. As I wander to the evil mask seller, I find colored crystals on my way. At my arrival he prompts me with hate. I receive the mask, and the merchant is happy. Blending sauces and oblivion in a big fountain of blood, the line is high for salvation. Why won't you die! All you ever thought about was killing yourself, now that you are immortal you cannot do that anymore. I removed your right, your privileges and your hate. Dodge my arrows, block my sword. You're the only one who can stop me. As I am your incident, you are the infidel. Lamentations on the walls, is like surgery for your money bag.