Oblivion

The heathens called forth,
Gutterly to the deep abyss,
Heaving profane incantation,
Amidst altars stained red.
Holding the lifeless body,
Cast into naught once more,
Like the oroboros devouring its tail,
Culled in an arcane rite,
To call up the lord of venom,
The serpent of the abyss,
The great and terrible judge,
The nameless beast,
The serpent who speaks in secret wisdom,
Who casts forth plagues and illness,
Who aggregates the hidden knowledge,
Who takes from and gives to us,
All from the somber note,
Bled from the hands of oblivion,
He rises up as a storm,
Swallowing up human lives.