Salters Of Madness - Slugdge

Forgotten unconcious ghosts of aeons lay

In chasms cold as the deepest grave

A charnel cosmic wind, dispenses his judgement

upon any and all who would dare to challenge fate

An end as certain as the setting sun

A desolation frozen in time

For there is no everflowing stream

Peasants rot beside their kings

Lord Bothris;

he who answers to no-one

for in the end, his will alone shall be done

His patience;

as infinite as the stars

The reaper of the harvest of the uncreated Pod

Prince of death, I await the final test

Grant me access to the fruits of Eden

Bathe in the seas of Vlekt at the foot of the master

Imbibe the slime, forever after

The quest for knowledge, unquenchable thirst

Praying for life eternal in this finite universe

Raptured, are they who bask in his goo

as their physical bodies are consumed

Shifting through an ocean of the dead, amidst the skeletal remains

carrion he devours to nenew his father’s form

From out of chaos comes a new order

decomposer of the flesh, preparing for the end

Recycled in the heavens as on earth

a rebirth of the material world