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No tombs remain unshattered

We carve the sigil into lightless marrow

The veil torn with rusted hands

Gnashing in sacred perversion

Ash descends where prayers once rose

Holy writ- drowned in the bible ov the first mouth

Let them speak ov mercy

As we feast upon its corpse

Proscribed- the name ov god is spat through split tongue

Etched backwards into bone

We walk the corridor ov serpents

Lamps ov skin alight with blasphemy

Each step a curse

Each breath a void

What end do they fear but the only honest one?

The rot that binds is the only truth

Final, absolute and pure

Their Eden is a grave with polished gates

Through rites unspoken we summon the unmaker

Crowned in ruin, throned in entropy

He comes not with flame, but with silence that unravels time

Mark this!

The evil end was never ours

But theirs, who denied the abyss yet built their heaven upon it

We are the proscription, we are the forbidden fire

And in our chantless wake, nothing shall rise again