| <When Woods Make Graves> page <Whispers From The Black Lake> album page |
MonolithAs the scars dance across the sky,Obsidian hands peek through the linings, Under the midnight holes, The stars, beacons that herald this dawn, Of an age swathed in black, And ruled by pure terror incarnate, malefic... We bare this emblem to note our devotion, We lit torches at sacred tablets, Scared by bone and sinew, Held by the strings of cosmic muscle, Unwavering our faith to this mass of god like tentacles. Fire reigns down in a baleful glow, Purging this living planar existence, As pillars that held the world on this plateau, Crumble and wither into dust that powers the hourglass of time. Under the gaze of an ebony deity, Whose languid thrusts pierces unknown dimensions, With every breath the nausea consumes matter, And expunges all forms of being from this universe. We pray to the stars to redeem us, Yet the malformed herald of cosmic consumption spews forth desires. Black onyx spires rise from this dragon's mouth, As it picks the wings of those who fell from the skies. Protectors so feeble, carnate in ash As their vacuous bodies succumb to this plasmatic terror. This monolith, raised in darkness, Incanted by woes that blanket this world. And straddled by claws from beyond, That etch their marks into our minds. Swaying asunder the smoke that pilfers into the air. Chants echo around the ruined mountain sides, The words scrawled into a single fragment of rock, Belying the ominous verdant glow that knowingly seethes it's whispers into the wind. This monolith, raised for worship, Hoisted in place by countless dead beings, Feeding minions of terror unknown prophecies, Endlessly adding to this dark perch of cosmic nightmares, Flocks of rukhs travel untold dimensions, With cadavers of twisted carbon mutations, Intricately placed in runic fashion, They serve as a holding, a base for this other worldly plinth to thrive... |