Can you scent the stench of the graves? The dead twines of his cerements
The predator winds behind the mirrors -- do they whisper to us all?
Eternal are the skies. As above, so within
Cold, dead, turbid eyes ghastly staring back at you
Now slowly leave behind the remnants of this earthly life
Let this be the gospel to extol your discorporation
Hell is but a pale vetlection in the eyes of nothingness
The thin line dividing life and death -- brutally distinct or mercilessly vague?
Fear the void! Wolves are gathered in the distance. See the massing of ravenous crows!
Turn back, mortal son! Blessed you will be to roam this carnal dungeon
In exalted slavery. Or proceed into the blackness far beyond the stars