Sonstead Blight
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My only child, final lantern alit
the insect's waning beacon
over my boundless, forever-fields
I embrace you at last.
Drawn back to the everbeing
unborn, and redead
into a spiral convulsing, reabsorbed.
Fire, which long lit your wayfaring path,
laps the land, leaving only its refuse,
smouldering and uncolored.
Plague, soulborne curse that gnaws bone,
enslaving impulses to rage,
begets kinslaying.
Dark, approaching negation,
envelops the remains of all form and making,
all light banished, all heat dissipates,
nor pulse nor breath endures.
No, these fortunes I do not bequeath you.
I shall vacate this plane, ascending to another.
Having sown in each mind
A figment of my visage
Memory cascading down lineage, corrupting
Sickness simmering within each skull
For man's auger to expel
Eyeless may you crawl this rock
Each pinnacle scaled, preceding only subsidence
Until the path leads you downward
To earthen origins and final respite.
Become, the heir of unmaking.