Dispatching the Curse of Uncreation

Quiesence, so precious, well-nigh forgotten,
 echoes through the wooden baronial hall.
 Smouldering ornaments, marvelous shimmering,
 beyond human entities, incinerating the throne
 in a semblance of triangular madness.
 The worlds ash bursts the urn, breathe, breathe
 the decay, the ruin, death. Suffuse the spirit with
 the deepest of all abysms, thrust sanity
 down into crimson depths.
 The worlds ash bursts the urn,
 breathe, breathe the decay, the ruin, death.
 Shatter the Self at times rising predawn, negate
 all hope, confidence, existence. Withdraw
 vigour from the will, the will from vigour,
 unfold within the entirety of nonentity.
 Renew tides slackening cycle. Stride on
 into thereafter, the before, the here and now.
 Sink in the mire of bedazzled thoughts, drown
 in the murky hole of reeking degeneration.
 Dispatch the curse of divine uncreation
 Sink in the mire of bedazzled thoughts,
 drown in the murky hole of reeking degeneration.