In Shrouds Decayed

I am your shrine

I am your womb

You rest inside of me

My flesh shall be your tomb



Your words decay

To foulest rain

A shroud of mildewed lies enwrapping your remains



Your body draped

Next to mine

Exposed to all unless they've chosen to be blind



You caused my sweat

To drop as blood

Soling this meager ground of desecrated mud



Your mind depraved

You've crucified yourself upon my barren grave



My fingers tenderly

Caress your face

I shall preserve my hatred until the end of days



I've conceived you

I've destroyed you

You were stillborn

Inside of me