(( The Patron Saint ))

--

The patron saint of abhorrence

Whispers deeply with solemn coherence

As the world crumbles with penitence

Thinking of the peaking annihilation

When hell knows he is the abomination

That clings to the will of man

With the tainted castor ban

--

He spoke with his rasp of atrocity

That landed the height of velocity

In his unspeakable philosophical ferocity

In the undead sprits that linger

Just around his cold, callous finger

They follow the faith blindly when he led

With his wizen, wisdom he fed

--

Down the river the blind man saw

When the darkness heard his call

The night was ripping as raw

As the sky was painted red

The town with angels fled

Leaving all behind to their demise

The sprits left restless with despise