To The Mountains Dark

The Beast climbs higher and deeper into the mountains carrying mankind's sins across his shoulders.

The beast climbs the darkened slopes, mankind's deeds draped across his shoulders, Forgotten crusts of dead giants litter the blade edged icy boulders,

His hands, they bear the marks of his passage,

Gods and goddesses salute the passing L'enfant sauvage.

Higher into the cauldrons of ice he climbs,

Bodies are beginning to leak their existential thought,

Victims of their subservient battles,

Death they have bought.

A thousand armies behind him, scenting the wind,

The dogs of justice, with teeth bared to the storms,

Hunt for his grisly countenance amongst the frozen thorn,

Mankind's lone saviour is he, but he is hunted.

His burden is society's stench,

Yet he plows on, for him no martyr's trench,

The eternal guilt clad beast in black,

Humanity's sins, his carrying sack.

Blistering winds cut his visage,

Shielding his eyes from the devil's wrath,

A blood ridden chore,

Until he rests in her, the devil's whore.

Mankind's wrongs, they are forged in his skin,

His hands, are torn by the Lord's eternal sin,

His burden, is mankind's salvation,

At the gate of timeless desolation.

Heaven's cunt spews forth demons on his way,

He sends them to oblivions of the grey,

Beast of burden, he climbs ever higher,

With the gods of his labour, a frothing silver.

Beasts of war, they lunge upon his being,

Silently and singly, he lets his heart sing,

A song of revenge and retribution,

This black beast takes wing.

To the mountains, the monster of hate climbs,

Leaving behind worlds,

Leaving behind mortals,

To the palace of eternal damned souls.