Vermingod - The Vocationist

Partisans in a prominent havoc, we are
all guests undone to this freak of a fest
A balance on a strand o' frail declarations,
A poorly-gained, richly-spitted isolation

Communes to the abyss' discipline,
Insurgence as a pitch-lighted, eerie need
Would these prints be of a pleasing sham?
Would my prints be of a godly inking?

This ever-stressing principality is abortive,
a vassal excellence encaged in looming fleering
Cast in rust, in most capacious lands,
This monstrosity is ever thickening

Communes to the abyss' discipline,
Insurgence as a pitch-lighted, eerie need
Would these prints be of a pleasing sham?
Would my prints be of a godly inking?

Even applauding acts give off an echoing nastiness
Now have the most atrocious worn a godly skin
These so-called prophets and saints,
I am devotional to doubt

To this point of self-abasing instance,
when the screeching of those gone resonate to a scenery in ash

Partisans in a soothing havoc, all are
All guests undone to this freak of a fest
A balance on a strand o’ frail interpretations,
A poorly-gained, richly-spitted vocation

Man, stand forth,
Claim a verdict
Child, shut away,
All you’re left with is decay
So, creep, screak up,
speak up, claim your judge