Bonesaw and blade
Carving a monument of flesh to a deathless god
beneath a burning black sun

Careful incision brings forth a sanguine font of vampiric life
Borne from a corpse so small

Fragile, not dead
Soon made a titan

Bathe in the splendor of my glorious knife!
Every cut brings necromantic life

A CALL FROM THE DARK
BLESSED BE MY ART AS THE WINGS OF THE VULTURE UNFURL
A BURNING BLACK SUN LIGHTS THE CORPSES BELOW
AS THEY ROT UPON THY THRONE

The artist blind to screams from his own kind
Naught else passes through the anti-cosmic mind

Tiny limbs discarded and tossed aside
Somnambular form possession shall save this fated bride

Face removed from my firstborn
The skin stretched out and dried so the harpy's winds be formed

A CALL FROM THE DARK
BLESSED BE MY ART AS THE WINGS OF THE DRAGON UNFURL
A BURNING BLACK SUN LIGHTS THE CORPSES BELOW
AS THEY ROT UPON MY THRONE


"I awake in my familiar bed drenched in a frigid, spectral sweat
What hell-ensorcerelled dream did I succumb to while my body slept?
My wife beside, fearful she’ll breathe her final breath.
And my son, should be sleeping soundly in his bed, I open his room with a careful step, cross the threshold and behold a room. Drenched. in RED."


Those screams
They were my son
Oh, how was this done?
My dreams taken hold by formless ones who CALL FROM BEYOND

What madness have I wrought?
Actions beyond any thought

My work done for naught,
For amongst the corpses he rots


"First my son, and soon my wife. I must act now before she dies, LET THIS FOUL MAGICK TAKE ITS HOLD. I WILL GRANT US IMMORTAL LIFE"