Diatriba Deorum

“Praise be to Thee O’ Lord of this world Sanctify me, save me, embolden me Never permit me to part from you And defend me from evil With your saints I praise you I have come to Thee Infinite good and All-merciful Blessed are you O’ God, O’ Lord Your word is true and eternal” Blessed be he who spoke Who grants me acclaim Anointed one, heed my saying Behold the man in your preparation to rot Salvation is misery unto the empty void

I am your wrath I am your fate I am your lust in rust I am your skull worn face Descend into my hell I yield it all to you I am your pain I am your name I am your mournful urge I am your willful hate My visions of waste I built it unto you I am the virgin whore of god I am the last false prophet of Allah I am the creator of all and fallacy I am the molestor of innocence I am your rot I am your craves I am your pining losses I am your weakening Born into my anguish I allow it all to you I am your emptiness I am your faith I am your unyielding distress I am your misery in place

Behold I say unto you My mercy is always in vain You wretched spawn of mildew Unseen through your pathetic gaze Take my phantom hand As brazenly as you can Grasp your symbol of holy words Heed my task that covers you in earth And as the children die In torment more and sacred Gracing those who grant me life You remain with innocence taken Kneel weakened and weep My blessings keeping deep Gaze away from my throne All life and wills shall be undone

Do as I say for I am the One The sacred, the holy, never undone Fall to your knees the pride that you feel Hold guilt, bear shame, the human is killed Made in disgrace of an image so shunned Faulted perfection your whims are for none Ascension decreed for misery in life Salvation denied in perilous pride As your Redeemer I beseech your birth The option is a choice of valueless worth Yet without my name held dear in your heart Your soul shall be futile, a punishment stark Beleaguered as man my invisible hand Shall crumble your want of desire Wretched in pain the infernal flames Do blind the kind from the liar

As I watch over a corpse, dining upon the dirt With the aroma of wretched flowers in the air In a quietude dismissed among the whole of the earth A soul, corrupted, glistens in the night, unacquainted and without care As I drink in the shadows from the river of silence In the sight of foul dread, swollen and dreary Ingratitude of the heart basking in the shade of death A life of dross in praise of slop, unknown, tired, and without spirit We are the dead We are the dead As I gaze into the abyss of reflection My blind sight stares back at me Made from the creator, god almighty Culled from birth in forlorn tragedy We are the dead We are the dead