Arcana Antediluvia - Bal-Sagoth

Behold, my blackened, grim and gory axe, the searing glow of trenchant steel.

I’ll notch another widow to my haft, and wreak red vengeance 'cross the waves.

Tales of black-sailed argosies, bedeviled by base treachery!

His gaze is as fire, his words are as spear-points, his voice is as thunder,

his touch as the plague!

Storm-prow cleaving, dragon rending, nighted deeps far, far below,

Hail-scur scouring, sea devouring, sunken realm’s ethereal glow.

And one night, there came a storm, a storm with searing red winds.

Fire and steel rode within it, and vengeance writ in thunder and blood!

Down sixty fathoms, from stygian coral-clad tombs, the pitiless abyssal sea

disgorges its shambling mold-mottled dead,

Dank innards blackly acoil with nests of slithering things!

Ghosts aglide upon the eldritch seas, unfathomed voyage to ascendancy,

Traitorous blood, the surf roils red, churning crimson, thrice-cursed dead.

'Tis enough that men might dream of being kings without aspiring to the power

of gods.