Come distortured artists
   Bitter things seek meaning
   Even if they're madness to behold
   Once forbears to horizons
   Where the dead stayed dreaming
   Now nightmares waken souls
   That fear the living's toll
  
   Gova, Bosch and Brueghel
   Three times moonwise stain thy graves
   For words alone are at loss to trace
   The face of today's inhuman wraith
  
   One half adrift in the vast abyss
   Of despair and misery
   The other a mask of rich red lips
   Whetted by the fevers of belief and greed
  
   All damned in this inferno
   Where even Virgil averts His eyes
   From the black mass mutual gang rape
   Of Caesing hands an forced divides
  
   Trespass these seven gates
   To a world bloodlet to shades
   Where Seraphim
   (Falling on deaf ears) bleat
   Of their cold and coming Master's race
   In the seweres of Babylon
   Stillborn to a trough anon
   Chimiracles will hatch like plots
   To dredge faeces to pearl their cross
  
   Enter Penteholocaust!
   Five Aeons past, yet still Man grasps
   At final straws to save his cast
  
   His Lord is a leper we shall not want
   He betrayed us with white lies
   His acrid pall as of the tomb
   Reminds us how we rot inside
  
   Gutted like fool's paradise
   Glutted on cruel appetites...
  
   Holding court to chaos
   Folding to far graver arms
   A downfall fatal to all resounds
   As orgies peak in self centred psalms
  
   And Nature screams Her sufferings
   Under bowed and cankered wings
   A bleak scorched Earth necrotica burning
   Like the robes we've torn from Her
  
   She begs Us lay Her pain to rest
   Lest We are left with nothingness
   Save for Her stripped and ravished flesh
  
   And if Her fate is not portent of Apocalypse
   Then the comets that graxe nightskies
   Will surely cleanse of wrongs and reichs
   When you and I and all else dies...
  
   It's rotting down
   This carcass Maggotropolis
  
   Interdependent as worms to the grave
   Allah's true name is naught
   Chist acannot save
   Locked in a waltz of evermore frantic steps
   Spells of regret...
   Death Magick for Adepts
  
   Be prepared to fulfill prophecies
   The glorious fall of a sin dynasty
  
   Gutted like fool's paradise
   Glutted on cruel appeitites...
  
   "We've woven hearts a thorn arbour
   Left tear streaked reason upon the shore
   And bereft of compass, star or more
   Set out for this World's end
   Few at the prow, most slave below
   Painting coal a perfect gold
   But for all it's worth, the engines slow
   Dead in the brine again
   Come cabin fever, sodomy on the bounty
   Prey to phallus seas
   That hiss and foam to douse disease
   A storm roars on the way
   Blacker than the Ace of Rapes
   Dealt out by Death in darkwood glades
   Our Ship of Fools, all boards handmade
   Sinks, dashed by seismic waves..."