The Pallid Scourge

He'd cut himself open
 Plant the seeds of plague within
 Wear a scripture of scars
 Caress the acerbic gangrene
 Build on decay, grow upon failure
 Absorb rot, devour corruption
 Feed on ruin, crawl through the pits
 Gaze into gray skies, swallow the ashen ardor
 Tear off the eyelids, peel the skin away
 Coil his limbs into a breathing sculpture
 He would become the pallid scourge
 Court offender in service of loss
 The herald of doom comes in silence
 His presence revealed in trembling of history
 He would rise a new temple
 Paint its walls with refined filth
 Burn bricks off crushed lives
 Pave the road with lost forgiveness
 The herald of doom comes without fanfare
 The ashes of empires beneath his feet
 Bones of the fallen pulverized to dust
 Joined together with spit of the virtuous
 Hardened in boiling bile of the holy men
 Immersed in the unknown
 Tempered in a haze of sulphurous fumes
 He would bleed all over this stone
 The herald of doom comes with a promise
 The true believer craves change
 He would cast away his light and his shadow
 He would become one with the pallid scourge