I work the graveyard shift, cadavers lay silently in wait My utensils are ready to perform degrading autopsies Through the sinews of dead flesh And within the dried marrow of old bones I have discovered the secrets of the dead Mercilessly I pit out what the dead cannot hide I become enlightened with a knowledge that makes me strong A power I now possess launches me into the afterworld Traveling paths in the innermost niches of putrefaction I will become a god of suppuration in this dead domain But to enter the putrid portal I must frantically carve Tediously I labor over crude necropsies, bizarre necrotomy My entire being soon liquefies as I cross over I take on the form of foul cadaverine Now through the perished, hardened veins I flow Immersed into the deceased where no life resides Except for wriggling fat white maggots filled with smegma and decay Apparitions haunt the viscera, my presence they avoid In terror they try so hard to hide Disappearing into the offal of the btchered When the dead go the way of all that is flesh And the burdensome mortal coil is shaken off Moving as I wish between the living and the dead Carcasses are tenements for all spectral souls An actual cosmos existing within a corpse The morticians could not fathom what I see Like a scalpel I cut my way through the necrosphere Plunging into the deepest recesses of the carrion They are unable to flee from my disembodied grasp The dead scream as I infernally enslave them Truly I am gifted, empowered with necromacy Originating in dead matter makes me necrogenic The interior decomposed membranes of the stiffs from a necrosphere Which has always remained unseen by mortal eyes Until I found the concealed secrets of the rot realm Now I am divine, the dead now worship me As if I am a god
dead, necrosphere, btchered, necrogenic, originating