Stench of the Catacombs

Waves of endless misery flood o'er pasture and battlement alike Each crest ushering in new depths of despair The reflections in settled pools evoke revulsion Each visage a caustic wound that burns the very soul They stand in the epicenter of this bleak miasma Pulsating with a vile radiance Apocalyptic consequences for grief and abortive ideals Past mistakes and furtive secrets realize annihilation And where were you then? When I needed her where were you? When the world is split apart and the ground crumbles What good has it ever been inhabiting this form? Seek to manifest her from this aching husk From needle to cerulean ellipse From setting sun, to rising moon Our fated, final, eclipse