Procession Of Depression

Come forth
Enter my palace, carved in the very spine of Earth
Pilgrims have descended far on their journey to curse me
Tread to me and kneel
All, align to the procession
Crawling in my dominion of flies: lies...
Here dies the resistance of the befouled Messiah

Protestors come from afar, gathered facing a closed up cavity
"Open thy gate! We have cometh to cleanse The Withered One!"
My spinelike path is thine to crawl upon
Thou shalt taste my wrath within the casketal gate
I welcome thee, I invite thee to dwell in my palace of hell

Join the  procession of depression
Under my eye of misfortune they're destined to neglect
The true cursed ones shall be the offspring produced under my reign

Desanctified upon arrival
Now cleanse this taint of shame within the house of my fathers
Incarcerated within walls freckled with stains of dishonour
They're to be drained,
Each drop echoing through the deep dark chambers

Snared by tongues to engage in sin;
Tickling the crevices, reaching within
To harvest the nectar of the foul natured hearts of the pilgrims
A journey to end in a travesty of salvation,
Swelling in the depths of my cavern

Abhorrent futures lie in plain sight,
Obstructed by a few worthless lives resisting the thron, soon fermenting below
Sealed in the maternal orifice
Enclosed in earth

Dissidents encapsuled within hollowed walls,
Exuding a mephitic stench
Cadaverine - to intoxicate the seedlings of a withered breed
Conjured through atrocities unspoken of in ancient prophecies

Neither epitaph nor grave
For the submissive corpses of unwilling slaves!