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This room, cold, empty

O father, failure

Forsaken but free

For hate is the house of the holy

With severed wings and a cross to burn

A fist of ash when dust is the fare

Time fleeting, the disease of life

Faith's perversion

Godless...rise

Pages of skin turn

With the carving wind

The endless churning

...degradation

And beaten with forked tongues

Smothered in gold

Lashings of the sun

Awaiting it's fall

The fall…the fall of light

...And the fear of hope

What are we without hope?

Crown of the eclipse

Wreathed, this blackhole - hollow

Vacant righteousness

Long live their emptiness

Swallowing the void

Inversion of being

Becoming whole – Revealing

Onwards - withered and worn

And the rats trail bearing gifts

Gnawing of limbs, festering - Vermin gods, pathetic

In worship, in wake - Sepsis, seeping - parched are the children

Weeping tears, as maggots fall into the well of stone hands

Broken teeth scraping mould, earned granules

Insatiable

The age of illusion

Phantasmagoria

The poison of promise

Purging from divine eyes

One last kiss

Crawling as one

Despair, a mouthing draught

Bleeding the path, serpentine

From flesh to bone

The wear of the way

Wading worth in waste

Dying, the stench to come

What was will be

-And the bodies will rise-

Pain is always

Our bloodletting, heart-wrenching

Writhe

Silence waits with open arms

War within, war without

To suffer is to know

To writhe is to live

Writhe