Regency of Hungering Swords

Subsume yourself into the greatest design Worship this acausal, final shape Exigencies of creation Regency of hungering swords Become numerous and fertile as seeds in rich flesh Become as hungry as tumors in rich flesh We are not the deep itself We only move within it You shall too You shall venerate and study it and haunt it Drink of poison, so you might feed on death Serve that violent arbiter, or turn away and be eaten Become numerous and fertile as seeds in rich flesh Become the children, the tumors pouring from sin There is a knife for you Pick it up Use it It's shaped like sideways numberless division retaliation Extol the changing blade Shape, and reshape Form Assume the changing blade Shape, and reshape Death

Paralyzed, broken down, resisting will get you nowhere Pain, torment, feel them reaching in, twisting a mind once pure to sin Cold, cold licking at your limbs, no fear, but joy at rapturous release Searching, seeking what was lost, finding nothing, but death’s head grinning at your foolishness Void, empty fucking soul – this is what we’ve done with you, divine flesh, the corpse of our ascension It will recombine, we will redefine The boundaries of your flesh, Through breaking of your bones Most cruel progeny, Unleashing Satan’s hunger Unending bleeding blight, We bring flesh bound Hell! Bold, deformities You shall drive forth The exultant final shape As simulacra of the marker You shall hatch the key in the graves of stars Thin, light The pulse of death now overwhelming You dream forever of gnashing teeth Your sword drinks forever in the throats of gods Infinite retribution Do not mistake yourself as free, your power is ours! Thrall of lambent deterioration Your will is not your own, exist to bleed for the marker, the key!

Smoking Skin In the Pogrom's din Lost Soul redeemed, reborn Through sprawling mire Of the infinite pyre To witness the ascension of the horns No hope here But the smell of fear Damned to feed the engines of Hell's scorn One dream left To end all breath Not one human spirit left to mourn A pox is born for them The grace of his good will Not one anthrop leech Escapes the poison of his blood Charnel house world Sinking In the pity of rot Dregs drag the lion Through the blood of his own cubs Old wounds made gangrenous Abominate And Free Ruined noble Unhappiest lord No one knows him now But they will know The wrath of those black eyes Merciless There's a star in the east that hangs for him That god unknowing That its light shall be his food That its pride shall be his offering Not one sweeter taste Than of idols ground to dust And in the wake of the blacked out moon Pure in her revenge The champion sings the requiem Lacrimosa dies illa Qua resurget ex favilla Juricandus homo reus Pie Satan Domine Dona eis requiem Mourn Unforgiven, scourge of all Know I am thy father Come to take thee home To the sorrow of your sin Bleed, human chattel, mourn! Full of tears will be that day When from the ashes shall arise The lot of man to be judged Therefore lay waste their world Precondemned in shame Merciful lord Satan Grant them eternal rest.