Invoking The Demons

Grim cold caverns, standing at the edge of the earth.
 Wretched little spawn, sitting at the helm of all he surveys.
 Bones of the dead and obscure trivial things,
 From the depths of hell, and of magical origin.
 Amassed with intent for invoking of the demons.
 Advent darkness ascertains commencement
 Of pagan rituals, to summon forth
 The legions of demons who shall rise from the dead
 And come to the bidding of the wretched little one
 Thundering skies
 Panoptic gray clouds of doom
 From which the lightning strikes
 The encompassing vile wind
 Ravaging the cold barren land
 From bloodied heavens, hell descends
 A raging fury in the form of pure evil
 And blood that falls in form of rain
 Marks the coming of invoked demons