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An immense cathedral of obscene proportions Seeps through the fabric of reality A vehicular edifice in constant change The ice cold light from distant suns, dim in the veils of sighing smoke The desecratrix stabs the pure licks and guzzles down their dread with eldritch craft that fucks their souls and founds them into twisted stone A skeletal face of grotesque dismay glaring from the rotten wall Staring back from a distant aeon A mere facet of the deathless arches The desecratrix stabs the pure licks and guzzles down their dread with eldritch craft that fucks their souls and founds them into twisted stone Like the drone of a thousand groaning gods the portent din scrapes our hearts when the firmaments begin to freeze and the eerie light from the phantom throne increase From Letras Mania