Enter my palace, carved in the very spine of Earth
Pilgrims have descended far on their journey to curse me…
Tread to me and kneel!
All, align to the procession
Crawling in my dominion of flies: lies…
Here dies the resistance of the befouled Messiah
Protestors come from afar, gathered facing a closed up cavity
“Open thy gate! We have cometh to cleanse The Withered One!”
My spinelike path is thine to crawl upon
Thou shalt taste my wrath within the casketal gate!
I welcome thee, I invite thee to dwell in my palace of hell!
Join the procession of depression
Under my eye of misfortune they’re destined to neglect
The true cursed ones shall be
the offspring produced under my reign
Desanctified upon arrival!
Now cleanse this taint of shame within the house of my fathers!
Incarcerated within walls
freckled with stains of dishonour they’re to be drained,
each drop echoing through the deep dark chambers…
Snared by tongues to engage in sin;
tickling the crevices, reaching within
to harvest the nectar of the foul natured hearts of the pilgrims
A journey to end in a travesty of salvation,
swelling in the depths of my cavern
Abhorrent futures lie in plain sight,
obstructed by a few worthless lives resisting the throne…
soon fermenting below, sealed in the maternal orifice,
enclosed in earth
Dissidents encapsuled within hollowed walls,
exuding a mephitic stench
Cadaverine – to intoxicate the seedlings of a withered breed
conjured through atrocities unspoken of in ancient prophecies…
Neither epitaph nor grave
for the submissive corpses of unwilling slaves!