Chthonian Appanage
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Elder Rite's Suicide

Chthonian Appanage


Is this not the work of your god?
The final carnage that you saw,
And now the majestic ascent
To the gilded gates of heaven.

Drawing closer to the promised light,
As you prepare for your judgment,
Surely, god will welcome you home,
Surely, your place here has been saved.

Woe unto you,
As it all fades away,
Leaving only the traces of
Promises unraveled.
God has turned his back on another.

The night descends,
A splendorous finale
To the sun’s dominance.
The somberness sets in,
With suicidal accordance
Of elder rites.

The demon within,
Ancient fields of blood,
Innocent life’s prominence,
The killing begins,
The majesty of hatred
Ascends to new heights.

Realize what you’ve strived for;
Realize just how you’ve been saved.

A lost cause of
No real importance.
A shadow destined
For the light.
Why should you weep
At the end of a tale?
Why should you seek
Day in your minute of night?

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