| Forgotten unconcious ghosts of aeons lay
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| In chasms cold as the deepest grave
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| A charnel cosmic wind, dispenses his judgement
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| upon any and all who would dare to challenge fate
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| An end as certain as the setting sun
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| A desolation frozen in time
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| For there is no everflowing stream
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| Peasants rot beside their kings
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| Lord Bothris; |
| he who answers to no-one
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| for in the end, his will alone shall be done
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| His patience; |
| as infinite as the stars
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| The reaper of the harvest of the uncreated Pod
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| Prince of death, I await the final test
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| Grant me access to the fruits of Eden
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| Bathe in the seas of Vlekt at the foot of the master
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| Imbibe the slime, forever after
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| The quest for knowledge, unquenchable thirst
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| Praying for life eternal in this finite universe
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| Raptured, are they who bask in his goo
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| as their physical bodies are consumed
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| Shifting through an ocean of the dead, amidst the skeletal remains
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| carrion he devours to nenew his father’s form
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| From out of chaos comes a new order
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| decomposer of the flesh, preparing for the end
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| Recycled in the heavens as on earth
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| a rebirth of the material world |