| Maledictions spoken aloud from the slime-ridden scriptures
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| pages of abject text which eyes cannot decipher
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| strange visions appear in the poisonous fire
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| Payments paid in the blood of batrachian slaves cast into seering vats
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| Arise, luminous beings of vapour
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| now thralls in the servitude of the betrayer
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| Kneeling in murky waters, the soul now clean
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| Baptised and reborn; |
| his blood runs green
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| Sanity fades and reality melts away, before the gates of our lord
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| Tendrils emerge from an ocean of darkness, dragging his soul into the void
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| Take the ichor, the bitter taste of corruption
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| exist as an abomination
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| Until the death of the universe
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| A god amongst men all alone in his head
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| The same, yet alien, alone in the end, the king of the dead, the god amongst men
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| Elation marred by the realisation
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| Immortality has become a curse
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| a god desires nothing
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| for divinity is hell in the minds of the living
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| Once more into the breach; |
| gazing deep beyond the tides of oblivion
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| where the fundaments dance to the tune of gargantuan tenebrous gods
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| Crystalline sprites now forming before him
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| attemping to show him the mind of Mollusca
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| all spectrums of light visible in the scrying
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| confounded by new found perspectives on dying. |