The Warlock's Execution

From a throat choked by rope


Came the guttural cry of lost hope



As the lunatics mobbed




Had his dignity robbed



Shackled maimed feet




Led by his noose through the streets



Tore asunder both wings





All behold the fallen warlock king



Third eye plucked out




No more demon tongue


Or incantations spawning from his lungs



Make him slave to gravity


His mind becomes a hollow cavity



Bled dry of tears




There goes a being of endless years



Weep with blood




Then bury him under the mud



Leave to atrophy



Provided thy testimony



I sought reprisal high and low




I made a pact with the dark lords below



I spew forth plagues to taint their soil




To break their backs with fever as their bodies toil



I crept under the shadow of purity


To unleash my terrors in obscurity



In my hour of pious wane


I drank in the powers of the profane



I turned to boundless catechism




Splitting the great whole with my schism



Behold my anathema of benediction


Flowered from my own spells and convictions



Sacrilege in Gethsemane manifest


Sevenfold nemesis awakes from rest


Anointed sin became flesh



A new mind made fresh



I emerged as the accuser of all


I made the prince born still in the royal halls



Hark the universe cries forlorn


Me the maker of the unborn



Bleeds from black lungs of hell


I the caster of these unholy spells



The crowd called for the rope around his neck



In two minutes he dropped and was forever wrecked



But his words cut like a sword



This man who served the infernal lord