At The Tomb Of The Scorched Adamantine

"That which will not concede to its own death

may die unloved, unwanted, and abhored;

to draw a shocked and gasping, altered, breath

before the horror of the great Untoward."

---La Rotisserie De Le Comte De Cacophony Et Calumny,

translated by Abbe Jehan Tesserae, 1749

 

This ashen-colored, pockfaced stone,

irregularly shaped, cast from the sky,

like the fallen angels from Heaven now covers

the dark deep hole into which they cast the carcass

of the Besotted Hater, follower of the Untoward,

over whose stinking remains the grimoire's last rites

were chanted by his howling, unholy followers.

Lake Fire, no part of his foul prognostications,

received him; into that worst of conglagrations,

he plunged to sear in endless agonizations,

unavoidable by even his most frenzied evasions.

Controversialist, him, and a prejudiced hater,

of subtle traps; of bent hooks, a master-baiter;

his demise coming, thankfully, sooner and not later.


Starward

 

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