Shackled to the Zenith of Uncreation

The Ghost:
I kneel before you on this ashen ground
Consecrated and barren as the essence of my being
Pale starlight flickers in the firmament
Between the opalescent glass moons of X

The Void:
Debased noctambulance and pernicious insomnia
Within the darkest corners of your toxic soul
Ushers in this grand moment of sombre truth;
A castigation for the sin of self ignorance

The Ghost:
Chained to a monolithic obelisk of obliteration
I surrender my anima in totality
Shedding the skin and dissolving the soul
Consigned to die beneath ghastly sunless skies

The Spider:
Before the shell is desiccated and drained
I shall drink my fill and slake my thirst
Your cursed heart is pierced without reprieve
Ensnared in the strands that I spin and weave

The Void:
This one belongs to the space betwixt the stars
Retreat, vile beast of the sprawling demonwebs
The architects of annihilation emerge to seize their claim
To sever the silver cord from this world and the next

The Spider:
I am the oracle of lies, the dark spiral spinner
No prey escapes my eternal vampiric grasp
Bound by metaphysical chains and confined in blood
The infinite threads of creation all return to me

The Ghost:
These hollow haunting tones
Ringing from deathly bells
Enraptured by the quintessence
Of existential obsolescence
Yet torn between two realms
I remain forever shackled in time
to the zenith of uncreation