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Slugdge
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The Chapter For Transforming Into a Slug
Cast down into the dirt, to live amongst worms in the dark bowels of the earth
Once respected now hated, imprisoned with blasphemous heathens and traitors
Kept silent in cold isolation, rage seething vortex of acerbic vexation
agglomeration of seditious usurpers are primed in the furnace of anarchic fervor
The black horde will come to stamp out the embers of the dying sun.
Beseige their Babylon; entombed within their own creation.
and as the ceiling caves, their fallen cradle turns into a grave.
Behind their crumbling walls they bend like wheat in a storm.
Commanded; Recite, he journies to Slish in the cold dead of the night
with the rest of his kind, in morbid procession on torrents of slime.
Vile lord of repulsion unfurls revealing the boils ripe with pus for his churls
Thereupon his foul humours they feed, sometimes the world must be cleansed with disease.
Willing to lay waste, they're fueled with the fury of malignant faith
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where death is no disgrace, it's all or nothing in their crusade.
Rebuild a Kingdom gone, a garden for the chosen ones
upon the fertile mud the earth runs red with blood
Oppressed becoming tyrant
replace order with violence
Through senseless intervention
Disrupted ecosystem
Corrupted, all for nothing, the beauty has been stolen, just emptiness and loathing
Ambition choking reason, the power I amass can't fill the void that's left
Fallen from grace, lost in greed, the knowledge he sought is a curse to concieve
Twisted, malformed, alone in the dark, when faced with the truth of what we are
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