Beneath the floors of the earth,
down below Davy Jones’s locker
where inferno fires rage,
stoked by the hands of the beast
in the house of the tempest,
the catacombs of the dead,
the temple of the unholy,
Satan attired in a black hooded alb
with scull and crossbones
engraved in blood,
assembles and anoints
his disciples with oils extracted
from the fields of Sodom,
showing the way up to the rafters,
up through the unholy ground,
into the tranquil seas
and up to the fragile skies.
 
Armored warriors ride
on iron clad Pegasus
dressed in black capes,
brandishing their bloody spears,
galloping along the firmament,
assembling the clouds together
with their colossal megaphones.
 
“Hear ye, hear ye,
clouds in your homes,
children of the skies,
serpents above the seas,
unleash thy wicked side.
Let your wind and rains wreak
havoc upon the seafarers below.
Do not lighten up until
the last man has succumbed
to the deadly waters
and hath visited the
glorious temple of the unholy
and has become forever a
disciple of our beloved Lucifer.”

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