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Interred Aflame

Hark! The Pompous Tyrant
Casts the Heretics to Hell.

Supremacy hidden by a mask of purity.
"O Lord, we beg;
Spare our souls from suffering."

The throne of light
Adorned in thorns.
The wired jaw
Of the free thinking man.

The netherward spiral
Is pockmarked with tombs.
The punishment for wisdom
Is six feet of flames.

Oh, what an ironic
Deity to revere.
Who lies through His Left Hand
And smites with a white-knuckled fist.

Praise be.
He opens His arms
To the wandering lamb.
The promise of the shepherd
As hollow as their skulls.
His staff is a scythe
At the mark of the goat.

Forgive Me.
For I was once callow;
I followed your flock
My sin was naivety;
For this I repent.
Dethrone, dethrone,
Dethrone the counterfeit King.

I bathe in fire and brimstone
And the Book of Lies burns with me.

I would rather pledge my death to the Beast
Than waste a lifetime in the service of deceit.

I would rather pledge my death to the Beast
Than waste a lifetime in the service of deceit.
Set my pyre in the circle of the sane.
May the Archfiend reign.

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