Is it night or is it day, I cant seem to tell anymore, all the colors seem so muted. A wailing of vexation, the clouds of thunderous silence, forming closer than I’d hoped. The bastardization of a malicious incantation, fix me now, sweet sounding deviation. Hindrance gaining ground, passions waning, secret of the artforms, commiseration. Populace now populating, this pestilence of the damned in waiting. See me from whence I came, to bleed me dry a final flame, senseless truth a crying shame. Feed the bewildered beasts, of festered meats, slurping and slobbering, time to stoop the hollowing, go reap the wallowing. Entwined, I do break bread, err to whisper, do i feel dead. Spent and warn, failure of the first born, set upon, the seekers swarm. The king of locusts comes, bringing torment, and lamentation, laying waste to all creation. Abaddon, the place of destruction, with sands of crumbling flesh and bone, lightning strikes glassing these fields of omen. The beast comes to bear, seated at the head of the table, with Kain and Abel. It’s the last supper now, with remnants of decay, fear not this coming age, the world is ours, so give it rage.