Retrograve
This retrograde entropy enslaves open minds and prepares open graves. The music plays, yes, but the dance is delayed.
Choronzon shuns the sun, even before the spark of man’s inception. His dark art festers in the balanced heart, eating away at pure intention.
Think ye safe? You are wrong. His power is strong; and from that abysmal home, his reach firm and long. Like a lion on the prowl, the beast is free to seek and roam.
That old star eater, game cheater, life sucker, soul ****er. Is it no wonder that thrice three is his unholy number?
“Resist”, ye say “and he shall flee.” Empty words speaketh thou thee! Show me THY skill and stop telling me.
Your tongue talks games that your mind can’t play. Who saves? The serving slaves? Toiling for their spoils on rainy days. Nay, I say!
Explode and rage! For once, be thou brave! Unleash thy flaming, turning, blade! Strike at the heart and the head will cave!
Enflame thyself in most holy adoration and soon ye shall see that this, alone, is the key to defeat this abomination.
The mind tattered and the soul bereft, take a breath of what’s left, and after this swift annihilation, sit ye long to calm your mind, and compose thyself to holy meditation.
Know thyself as in Adonai’s presence. Be ye still.
Be ye still! Know thyself to be; KNOW thyself to be; it’s nothing to simply “feel”.
At the very last moment, when the heart and mind be quiet and still, ye shall then and only then know thyself victorious, and the accomplishment of thy Will.
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