Come distortured artists
Bitter things seek meaning
Even if they're madness to behold
Once forbears to horizons
Where the dead stayed dreaming
Now nightmares waken souls
That fear the living's tollGova, Bosch and Brueghel
Three times moonwise stain thy graves
For words alone are at loss to trace
The face of today's inhuman wraithOne half adrift in the vast abyss
Of despair and misery
The other a mask of rich red lips
Whetted by the fevers of belief and greed
All damned in this inferno
Where even Virgil averts his eyes
From the black mass mutual gang rape
Of Caesing hands an forced dividesTrespass these seven gates
To a world bloodlet to shades
Where Seraphim bleat
Of their cold and coming Master's race
In the seweres of Babylon
Stillborn to a trough anon
Chimiracles will hatch like plots
To dredge faeces to pearl their crossEnter Penteholocaust
Five aeons past, yet still Man grasps
At final straws to save his cast
His Lord is a leper we shall not want
He betrayed us with white lies
His acrid pall as of the tomb
Reminds us how we rot insideGutted like fool's paradise
Glutted on cruel appetitesHolding court to chaos
Folding to far graver arms
A downfall fatal to all resounds
As orgies peak in self centred psalmsAnd nature screams her sufferings
Under bowed and cankered wings
A bleak scorched Earth necrotica burning
Like the robes we've torn from herShe begs us lay her pain to rest
Lest we are left with nothingness
Save for her stripped and ravished fleshAnd if her fate is not portent of Apocalypse
Then the comets that graxe nightskies
Will surely cleanse of wrongs and reichs
When you and I and all else diesIt's rotting down
This carcass MaggotropolisInterdependent as worms to the grave
Allah's true name is naught
Chist cannot save
Locked in a waltz of evermore frantic steps
Spells of regret
Death Magick for AdeptsBe prepared to fulfill prophecies
The glorious fall of a sin dynastyGutted like fool's paradise
Glutted on cruel appeititesWe've woven hearts a thorn arbour
Left tear streaked reason upon the shore
And bereft of compass, star or more
Set out for this World's end
Few at the prow, most slave below
Painting coal a perfect gold
But for all it's worth, the engines slow
Dead in the brine again
Come cabin fever, sodomy on the bounty
Prey to phallus seas
That hiss and foam to douse disease
A storm roars on the way
Blacker than the Ace of Rapes
Dealt out by Death in darkwood glades
Our ship of fools, all boards handmade
Sinks, dashed by seismic waves
