Profane Psalms Carved Into the Palms of God

Martyr, lashed to the stone Retching in torment Succumb, as you're hung by the throat Enduring ungodly ruin Stay the tongue that spews bile from your mouth Searing skin as I'm stabbed in the back You'll rot for your feeble, impious attacks Thee of Bile My head seams in two My mind spawns forth the Dirge My hands, bound to the rocks My palms, psalms, and the brand Dirge Nexus of liturgy Voices and whimpers crumble under my Word My palms, bound to the rocks My soul, chained to the mire A newfound avarice in your God Believe me, In time, you'll grovel in flocks In time, you'll pay for what you've done to me The urge to be reborn My mind, the Chthonic Abyss My delusions of grandeur There is none more deafening than my command Grovelling cunt

Submitted by Warbringer — Aug 14, 2026