End Of Days, Part 1.

From beneath you it devours.

God of the soulless army,
Who’s teeth grind those
Too weak to escape your ravenous
Taste for human life and flesh.

Thanatos, Morte, Óbito,
Harbingers of the nameless
And brethren to the darkness.
All shall know thy kiss.

Does thou know thy place
In the coming end of days?
They shall call you the bringer,
The mortal king of death.

Above you all life will perish.
All the kingdoms of man
Will fall into your black embrace.
They will not see you coming.

Kingdom will devour kingdom,
Father will devour son.
The world will weep in blood
And you shall raze the stars.

None shall stand before you,
None shall live beyond you,
Only one may come to confront
You in the dying days ahead.

The Thanatosis of fate,
Bearer of the waters of styx.

Bringer. Muerto. Faceless.
Master of the endless damned
I cry to thee. Apoptosis
To all that once was.

Amorphous will be thy kiss.
From beneath you it devours.

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Poem © Phen Weston

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