A Chronicle of Demoniacal Metamorphosis - Abysmal Growls Of Despair

In the beginning there was a plague

Summoned from the malignant pages

Of the most execrable of books

Bound in flesh, written with blood

Each letter is infused with pestilence

Every word is a wormhole to a curse

In the middle there was a conflagration

The crematory rites for human-kind

From their ashes, a cimmerian nebulae rose

And engulfed the goat-forsaken fields

Of the devil’s dead earth

A shroud woven by forty-two shadows

Contrived to snuff the light

With the charnel stench of their devotion

I’ve suffocated and died a thousand times

Trying not to inhale the dust of that dead aurora

Throughout a somber procession of incarnations

Crepuscular visions I never considered «lives»

But intervals of asphyxiation on a six-spoke rotar

And the severed hearts still slither

Gangrenous, in the pool of dead blood

Fools sacrifice in futility

Then say it’s my athame through their valves

Time alone heals nothing. The incorporeal scars

Fester beyond the confines of infinity

Like the eidolon stars that unravel

The cosmos, invert existence

Portals into oblivion

And therein lies the end, where non-existence

Reaches its black culmination, the inverse

Zenith of desolation

II. Dying Embers of the Final Twilight

The worms mutated as the dead phosphorescence dimmed

Morphing into grotesque forms as they ate their way

Through the forgotten corridors of my mind

Opening doors for the devil, six inverted eyes

Windows to Serpens' unholy light, the venom of gods

A torch to the shroud; all the filaments

Of my artificial existence turned to cinders

I gazed upon those forsaken conflagrations

As the spectral embers of that final twilight faded

The stygian sea disgorged its serpents

Cthonian currents rose with the hydra

Disintegrating the sepulchral towers

Of the impaled, staining the heavens

With the lustrous blood of the seraphim

Enochian screams of mortal anguish cascaded

Into the long-anhydrous veins of mortuary earth

Auguring the return of immemorable gods

The arachnid flora of a primordial evil

Ascended, a charnel garden, their gargoyle hearts

Bared to the welkin, secreting the necrotic vapors

Of damnation, the sulphrous nepenthe

Of the netherworld, a balm

To my blackened, bleeding psyche

I peeled off my skin, the better to breathe it in

To let the infernal visions flood my perception

In a temple between worlds, a pair of ravens

Dine on the charred flesh of angels

III. The Devil’s Empyrium

My draconian wings unfolded as I drank

From a dark prism, the lifeblood

Of shadows, the last light of fading ghosts

As their composite annihilation formed my

Dark haven, an atramental dimension

Where the obsidian cataracts of mist

And flame converge and ascend

To hyper-demonic frequencies

Octaves beyond the comparatively pale

Pestilent planes of colored light

It seems that dreams, like everything

Were forged in this hell-black miasma

From the aphotic dust of long-dead stars

From the cinders of mortal souls that have

In anguish, faded back into the aethers

In the beginning there was only blood

On the parchment, inverted angles

A demonic stigmata