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Prophecy Of The Last Days
by Thyestean Feast

Come to domes of remorse
Summoned be the first of my four beasts
Rip bare the omens of cross
Inhale the words, trueborn disease

Beheld,
White horse of savior.
Above every god
Dark prince

Diverse from all humanflesh fooled
Spread wings like horns, angelchrist
Eyes for lies in mouths of truth
From horns shall ten kings rise

Come to domes of remorse
Summoned be the second of my four beasts
Rip bare the omens of cross
Inhale the words, trueborn disease

Hear rapture of lies, lies of god

Breed the lies!

Adulation of trickery, desecration of prophecy
Come to domes of remorse
Summoned be the third of my four beasts
Rip bare the omens of cross
Inhale the words, trueborn disease

Before him stands two candles lit
Served in faith, banquet of plague
Seasons imitate march of the sick,
Black as hate in vows to wake

Come to domes of remorse
Summoned be the last of my four beasts
Rip bare the omens of cross
Inhale the words, trueborn disease

To slay with sword
To slay with hunger
To slay with death
And with beasts of the earth

Contributed by Lily T. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
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