The siege of sleep and the cosmic black fear,
On your knees you grieve where not dawn will appear,
The scarring of your soul by the king you hold dear,
Your flesh held by wolves in a wretchedly era,
Humbled, made poor, low end of the low tier,
Exalted in defeat, what will be’s what will be,
All’s doom, all’s doom, wretched now and cocooned,
Yet safer, yet safer, deathly heirloom.

What creeps and what hides will be made most high,
When doom applies to what won’t abide,
The earth needs the dying to feed what survives,
Myself included, my shadows and my doubt,
Old words return through my mouth to affirm,
Monarch of the pale heavens arise,
Let mine be the surface of the skin you desire,
In my blood, in my cum, in my sweat, come alive.

For your sake we’ll eat our sons,
Devour, devour...
For your sake our flesh we’ll rot,
We’ll rot, we’ll rot...

Ask of our deep need,
‘tis for our shadows to rise,
For our sadness to survive,
To acknowledge the darkness and within it take heart.

Honour our woes, our despair,
Our momentary triumphs, our will to survive,
All the madness decreed inside all belief,
The mantle of creed from which we are free.

Are you king, are you queen?
From whose gore were you gleaned?
Old serpent of old night,
Great lord of Tartarus,
Old fiend, the old grim.

Great doom from Tartarus,
My soul longs to see,
To see all afouled,
To see all defiled.

To see all devoured,
To see all devoured,
All that weakness has authored,
Deplored and devoured.

…not even, not even, not even then, were they avenged…

But what will we meet?
For I have been simply denied,
Simply without an end.

Our words, our forgotten words,
We speak with nothing revealed,
All words are inverted words,
All speech is molten.

Yet depths survive,
Morbid creatures of night,
Hear the howling of pale wolves,
See uglied eagles take flight,
Poets of a gray realm search for words,
Paling the darkness for light.

Fears come alive wreaking the meek,
Terrors sublime, gut wrenching defeat,
The will of great men made weak,
Visions of the elders made bleak.

But you’re weak,
Echoes the creed,
You thought you were free,
But you’re weak,
And firm in Saturn’s grip.

Where all are weak,
And devoid of will,
Fall on your knees,
Serve the tyrant, serve the night.

Be whipped by grief,
Embrace fear, hold it dear,
The dance of pain,
Learn it well, welcome hell.

Confronting self,
Ridding creed, finding depth,
The monarch pale,
In your heart is now king.

Therein a witch,
Secret words are revealed,
Find the alchemist,
Own your song, set it free.

Now glimpse a suffering man,
As a child with life consumed,
Follow him upon his path,
Finding grief where mirth grows.

Sights he set upon that hill,
A stretch of land for which to kill,
Love no other can reveal,
Clinging meekly upon his steel.

Narrow in his mind and ways,
Sees only what’s in front his face,
Yet desperate to bleed and to atone,
And not content with a life alone.

Pledges allegiance to his fathers’ filth,
None of which he truly believes,
Teaches his son these same words too,
That bring him sadness when he’s still.

Until he greets the monarch pale,
And reckons with death upon his breath,
Looks away in fear and hate,
Heeding warnings from somewhere else.

That to see him is to utterly die,
To utterly burn, to utterly cry,
Yet to greet him is to live,
To be reborn and never to grieve.

It is cold here,
Yet all paths lead here,
Here and only here.

I saw all I feared,
Through all I made bitter,
Forsaken what was dear,
Substance is what is here.

Nothing was ever clear,
(Serpents ever dear)
In silence all is here,
(Defeating all I feared).