Swan Song
As broken bells resound
In the church of megalomania
The stench of death surrounds
The fiends 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 fires 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 monuments
Their whores and their fucking gods
Come wipe out every last pathetic trace
Come at last
Wipe it all away