Death Magick for Adepts

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
Moon wise 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 greedAll damned in this inferno where virgil averts his eyes
From the black mass mutual gang rape
Of ceasing hands an forced dividesTrespass these seven gates to a world blood let to shades
Where seraphim bleat of their cold and coming master's race
In the sewers 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 castHis 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 inside
Gutted like fool's paradise gutted on cruel appetitesHolding court to chaos holding to far graver arms
A downfall fatal to all resounds
As orgies peak in self centered 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
We'll surely cleanse of wrongs and rights
When you and I and all else diesIt's rotting down this carcass maggotropolis
Interdependent as worms to the grave
Allah's true name is naught Christ 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 dynasty
Glutted like fool's paradise, glutted on cruel appetitesWe'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 goldBut 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