Psychoccult Hymn

He has slided a painstaking life

Until he faced that death is about to stay

In a pace unreachable for human fools

In an ignorance that leads to destruction

Fuddled and frightening he draws last pictures

For remembrances to come and to go

As he grasps for worms creeping on ashes

The last supper, the last power of reasoning

Disembowelment

Obscene visions

Streaming the mind of our central figure

As shit runs down from stillborn knees

As they stone him with all their force

This is a hymn for the beast

That lives in the hearts of its followers

Staring on seas of gore

Trampling on the bodies of the beloved

He is standing breathless

Helpless and worthless

Transcending into nothingness

Swallowing by the extravagant

The stiffness interrupted by some last twitches

Bygone for years it seems

And for one moment someone asks himself

If he would stand by and watch the scenery

By those to come next