The Dark Blessed Elite

From the Shadow, rising.
 A pale becoming
 Like a leaking sewer pipe
 rancid, rusted by the time of existance
 Wasting and losing energy
 Still deteriorating... withering
 Arteries spread by my gospel!
 Blood is the life, they say.
 But plagued is this wine
 poisoned to contaminate Luciferian gifts!
 It isn't the day that conquers the night,
 Nor does dark become overcome by light
 But the existance of another
 is but the opposite
 All living will DIE!
 Either a quickened end
 or slow one of the deterioration...
 Which is more painful one
 is to decided by the sufficated
 But us, the Dark Blessed
 shall walk as elite above these mortals
 And the knowledge comes too late
 when we rule supreme, master!
 SUPREME! MASTER!
 It's the night that kills the light
 and the day is slain by dark
 This existance, balance
 is created from the blacker side