Yes, so divine...
So defined, the crux of imagination
For all to see...
For all to fear, the impossibility
Such is the power that lies behind human identity
Death beheld on the luckiest to violate mind's inner reaches
Life still hung around the throats of those hapless, teasing the indulgence of sweet dissolution
Dread the prodigy
Fear the bile which he spit to the apocryphal sun
Life to the unfortunate
Vitality remain to the subdued moonstruck
Blackness leak from the core, spewing decrepitude to the delusive
Flood from the sides
Fill the skull with wicked seed
Prayers to the headgods heard not
Faces of the living shunned by divinity
Alone in substantial reality
Suffocated with nightmarebeasts in impoverished mentality
Death itself, not so brave as to defy the horrors of human consciousness
The soul, the sparkling vigor, absorbed into black essence
Shadows - howling moons, reflecting the dead light of a sun, forever consuming the feeble life of true existence