Something stirs from an aeon ago in the centre of a circle of cyclopean stones Incantations from a mucus bound tome as the cult makes preparations for their lord's welcome home chanting dark and cacophonous rhymes while the thunder and lightning rends a hole in the sky rising tendrils of ash now encircle the sun turning black from the blast of the Greatfather's drum
For there can be only one..
There's a pulsating heart in the midst of the void Twisted maladous melodies which create and destroy through a ritual of blood in a valley of doom he assumes human form on an altar of shrooms Expulsion of the outcast mind Cursed to wander in the gardens of slish for all time For this book is the key, and the psyche; a door to a cosmic cornucopia of esoteric lore
Cursed words, scribed in slime Spoken in reverse when the stars are aligned Only under the black sun, may these mortals partake in his conjuration Trapped in a spell of the Gastronomicon..
And beneath the shattered sky the earth will grieve except for man, who shall be granted no reprieve On this land which once gave life, now lies clear In the poisoned depths the wreckage of ten thousand years
Blasphemers of true nature Hiding from the inner self virtues that don't exist deny genetic heritage
the circle is complete We must return to the earth
Usurpers of your masters You have become mere facades Nought but pale reflections A species in dejection
The circle is complete He is risen, all must suffer
It has begun, the beginning of the end of all things to come