Feast of the Manes

Come unto me Seraphim de Sopor Sec ulum
I offer my flesh and blood that I may pluck a feather from the wings of the
Angel of Death
May it be a quill with which I scribe the forms of thy sacred names
From the sanguine of my heart and open the gates to the labyrinth beyond
slumber and death
Relinquishing my corporeal form to shadow as I will pass beyond in luminous form
With serpent tongue I summon those shades that would taste of the gifts of the
living
I, psychopomp to the agape of the stygian maze
But one star shines tenebrous upon these colossal depths
Nefarious pulsing Daemon’s Head, risen in culmination above the atramentous
wastes
Sup upon these vestments I cast away, oh shambling eidolons and shadow forms of
murk and drear
And lay bare the knowledge unbegotten of any god
I ride the currents of Erebus upon ebon wings into aphonic gulfs unending
As a star new born I have become
A beacon in the abyss