Blessed he With Boils

Xanthochroid

Marked for death and horribly maimed 
I've suffered its pains, yet rightwise claimed 
This holy throne atop the Erthe; 
All shall witness a new god's birth 

"Blasphemer, deceiver 
A perfect fool" 
I shall nobly rule 
"Whose lies entrance" 
This northern expanse 

Believe! 
This holy land belongs to me 
The crown of kings upon my head 
Proclaims my royalty. 
Accept my gift 
And grovel at my knees 

Arise! 
Monuments to my reign 
One thousand years of faceless gods 
Replaced by fire and steel 

Consume! 
And let our might be known 
The feeble kings of Erthe and Axen 
Are but flesh and bone 

Man, who is Erthwile born 
Who longs, who tries, who is 
Full of strife 

How frail is life! 
And mine is but a breath 
A hopeless Thought 

"Who is empty, 
Faithless, embittered 
And capable of anything 
Inconquerable 
Yet full of woe" 

So I extend my reach 
Upon riches 
Unfit for unseen gods 
And disperse them to my sons 

My body is covered with maggots and scabs 
My skin, is faded, cracked and dry 
And still they proclaim 

"Blasphemer, deceiver" 
A thief they say 
But I have suffered 
And I have paid 

"All this was 
Long ago. 
Reap what you sew: 
Erthe and Axen, 
Flesh and bone" 

Marked for death 
No sense but a pulse 
Neath my fading breath 
I'll bear the weight 
Chains of my past so full of hate 

"King of Erthe" 
How frail is life 
"Dust and Ash" 
How full of strife 
"Like aeons past" 
And when I die 
"Your disease shall never last" 
Never again shall I arise 

"All this was" 
A thief they say 
"Long ago" 
To dead gods they pray 
"Reap what you sew" 
I have suffered 
"Erthe and Axen, flesh and bone" 
I have paid