The Demon Incarnate

Asleep below the freezing earth, stirred by the call of the accursed mask
Old, dark memories of triumph - a sanctuary of pain and hate
Decaying limbs claw through the dirt - the gruesome stench of the past
Grotesque shapes obscured by the fog, the moon a bone-white glow
Primitive ghoulish hunger to kill, to gore, consume
Decrepit are the living, The Demon's will be done
The Evil Eye aflame with the power of necromancy
An immobilizing stare torturing pitiful souls

The cemetery is alive with the lurching undead
Exhuming horrible sins in the dead of night
A lurid flashing light - anguish and torment
Raising all enslaved by death

A grim and turgid darkness, contorted forms and shadows
Ashes of angels fall like snow upon a grey and lifeless ground
The throbbing pulse of The Gravehammer is buried by sadness and gloom
Until only silence is echoing in eternity

In the rotting air, Granath smiles upon Ovu Mobani incarnate
The graveless horror embodied in a zombie's flesh