In Debt to Oblivion

"...forged by death..."
 Lurid rumors reach our ears; of a crown so dismal
 Stowed away within the cavities of this world
 - Sealed behind emerald gates
 - Claimed by a Throne-keeper wrapped in wither...
 Far beyond oblivion's shores
 We have ventured in search of the chasm
 And along the spine of earth lay our trails
 Looking forlorn in the light of the moon...
 And here it towers: the grandiose entrance to secrecy
 Bearing marks of deeds unknown...
 "Open thy gate! We have cometh to cleanse The Withered One!"
 The serpentine pathway sprawls
 Down towards the abysses palace of dysphoric grandeur
 Looking ever more forlorn, our trails riddle the soil
 Another few of thousands to endure
 The atrocities of breeding the offspring of the fermented
 With cleansing in mind we tread through the castle gate
 A vast hall, shrouded in miasmic fog leaves our eyes dreary
 Desanctified upon arrival, we are nothing more
 Than taints of shame within this house of pain!
 ...and from His throne,
 The Majesty beckons, unworthy of His crown
 Here are no seeds of doubt
 A totality of tyranny is sure to prevail
 Spewing forth its demented sperm into the chalice
 Of humanity's blissful ignorance of what the future holds
 In the cavernous depths wherein they swallow the sun
 Echo the lost prophecies' deploring sound
 Of the abhorrent futures that lie in plain sight
 Obstructed by our worthless lives...