Vehicle Of Stone

An immense cathedral of obscene proportions
 Seeps through the fabric of reality
 A vehicular edifice in constant change
 The ice cold light from distant suns,
 dim in the veils of sighing smoke
 The desecratrix stabs the pure
 licks and guzzles down their dread
 with eldritch craft that fucks their souls
 and founds them into twisted stone
 A skeletal face of grotesque dismay
 glaring from the rotten wall
 Staring back from a distant aeon
 A mere facet of the deathless arches
 The desecratrix stabs the pure
 licks and guzzles down their dread
 with eldritch craft that fucks their souls
 and founds them into twisted stone
 Like the drone of a thousand groaning gods
 the portent din scrapes our hearts
 when the firmaments begin to freeze
 and the eerie light from the phantom throne increase