Swan Song

As broken bells resound

in the church of megalomania

the stench of death surrounds

the fields of spiritual necromania

Deluded stooges amass

Still clinging to empty vows

For one final ebrious mass

Never temple, always slaughterhouse

Too long have the watchers gazed upon

The cancerous boils of arrogance

Now time has carved the path

The mirage of relevance

Worn down in corrosion's quiet attrition

Corporeal elements

Subvert its Sisyphean accretion

Orbital decay

And crawling hydrogen depletion

Enough to burn away

A pantheon of superstition

No call for your glory

Amidst the howling winds that feed

Time's vast cemetery

Erased are the stories

Doused, the fire stolen from the sky

Now an ashen mortuary

Too long have the watchers gazed upon

The cancerous boils of arrogance

Now time has carved the path

Too long has the continuum been riled

By biotic usurpation

Now entropy has pulled the plug

No call for your glory

Amidst the howling winds that feed

Time's vast cemetery

Erased are the stories

Doused, the fires stolen from the sky

And its worthless luminaries

Come, death

Let your gracious silent storm

Disperse the swan song of all life

Come, death

Dispel the nightmare of eternal life

Come, death

Lay waste to the pious,

The just and the depraved alike

Their shrines

Their whores and their fucking gods

Come wipe out every last pathetic trace

Come at last

Wipe it all away