He'd cut himself open Plant the seeds of plague within Wear a scripture of scars Caress the acerbic gangrene Build on decay, grow upon failure Absorb rot, devour corruption Feed on ruin, crawl through the pits Gaze into gray skies, swallow the ashen ardor Tear off the eyelids, peel the skin away Coil his limbs into a breathing sculpture He would become the pallid scourge Court offender in service of loss The herald of doom comes in silence His presence revealed in trembling of history He would rise a new temple Paint its walls with refined filth Burn bricks off crushed lives Pave the road with lost forgiveness The herald of doom comes without fanfare The ashes of empires beneath his feet Bones of the fallen pulverized to dust Joined together with spit of the virtuous Hardened in boiling bile of the holy men Immersed in the unknown Tempered in a haze of sulphurous fumes He would bleed all over this stone The herald of doom comes with a promise The true believer craves change He would cast away his light and his shadow He would become one with the pallid scourge

My prophecy is a nightmare, my path is a like a hedge of thorns On to the burning wastes, on to the great rift To harvest the bitter fruit and drink from the barren springs My land is roamed by worms, my teeth are gnashing A shrine of flesh that had risen, a mind that sparked above the stars Scorched by the consuming fire in the forges of the nether god Towards the noumenon Deprived of both a body and the mind that animates it The soul is petrified in a monstrous satori It is hermeticism of the abyss that has trampled it Into a blunt instrument of enlightenment Towards the noumenon, towards apocalypse A lifetime of unquenchable thirst and ravenous hunger Has carved out an devouring automata Destroyed by the bitterness Of its grievous and long-protracted punishment My cup runneth dry, my house is divided On to the burning wastes, on to the great rift A vast network of fractures, the forecourts of Sheol The night is as a garment, the face has been obscured Apex prelest, conscious nothing Axis damni, embers of pneuma Disunity, estrangement The cruelty of the other death

This is the nexus of perdition, this is the core of the fall Worked out arduously in fear, trembling and fever The body wrecked, the mind shattered The soul destroyed, ripe for apocalypse And everything that constituted yourself All the things you've done and those you could have The joyous memories, the warmth and the calm The silly thought that one day a change would come The naive adolescence, off track with its dreams But in the end - harmless and innocent The anecdotes, and digressions and pauses Those moments of bliss atop the green hills The illusion of belief, justification and truth All those things you've learned for later, for another life And every word that could be spoken, every thought that could be born And all that could have been is now no more