The Living Dreams of a Dead God

A withered figure sits on a throne of bone
In the frostbitten wasteland at the end of all time
He carved a path of blood and hateful destruction
With a hungry blade made of blackest midnight

Under the fading light of the last stars
Sunken pale eyes gaze into the vast abyss

I have learned more wisdom than was ever forgotten
By hanging my soul from an old tree root-rotten,
In exchange for wretched necromantic black magick
I brought forth pestilence, sorrow, and endless death

Under the fading light of the last stars
Sunken pale eyes gaze into the vast abyss

So I stand at the end of all time,
When the last embers fade away,
Staring into the fetid singularity
But I shall remain

I shall remain