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 toll
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 Gova, Bosch and Brueghel
 Three times moonwise stain thy graves
 For words alone are at loss to trace
 The face of today's inhuman wraith
 One 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 divides
 Trespass 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 cross
 Enter 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 inside
 Gutted like fool's paradise
 Glutted on cruel appetites
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 Holding court to chaos
 Folding to far graver arms
 A downfall fatal to all resounds
 As orgies peak in self centred psalms
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 And nature screams her sufferings
 Under bowed and cankered wings
 A bleak scorched Earth necrotica burning
 Like the robes we've torn from her
 She begs us lay her pain to rest
 Lest we are left with nothingness
 Save for her stripped and ravished flesh
 And 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 dies
 It'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 Adepts
 Be prepared to fulfill prophecies
 The glorious fall of a sin dynasty
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 Gutted like fool's paradise
 Glutted on cruel appetites
 ♪
 We'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