Nailed To Obscurity

Pretenders to the throne of i

Confined and diseased

In a life so habitual

Epitome of my creation

Weak attempts in a world

You could never grasp

I demand the blood

Drained from the bodies of the

Ones

Who deceived me

I demand the flesh

Stripped off the bones

And burned of its sanctity

I demand the soul

Cast into fires

Of an everlasting hell

I demand the memory

Erased from my mind

And never to return

Chaos in the form of order

Sygian visions

With the ability to crush

Heresy denies the threshold

Lost are the ones

Who fall short of my ordinance

Sinful in the ways so ageless

Born to the shrine

Of unearthly creation

Prophecy of the shadow

Impaled on the bones

Of the failed

And forgotten