Rex Morte

Harbinger of gloom, swathed in blanket of terror;

Sepulchrous stench, fetid thunderous doomslayer.

Thou wilst find me rest upon, a glinting edge of steely knife,

Lo, the final, shorn farewell, from a mean, unfaithful wife.

Usurper of thine Kings; darkle killers, court thy friends,

I’m the Crown Prince of Hell, where'st your life never mends.

I perch upon the nose of a terminal bullet;

I’m the last breath you gasp, from a gagged, choking gullet.

I feed upon your mind, like a humanoid hater;

Defenestrating foes, I’m a smoked desolator.

Unhallowed be thy name, bearing dim, infernal homes;

‘ Tartarus ‘, ‘ Gehenna ‘, Stygian Sheol’s, aphotic zones.

Wh*redom, drugs and grog, divorced of marriage, prostitution;

Vaunt imperious, finishing schools, of thy minion's institution.

Skeletal, sallow hand, bleeding eyes of burning coals;

Sowers of dank dread, desecrating fallow souls.

Hell’s ' betes noires ', collectors sworn, to do thy bidding;

Verily carry out my plans, amidst your streets, there I am hidden.

Thitherto displayed, dost thrust my atramentous cross;

Postpartum sign of reigning fear, divines thy gain shall be your loss.