Is there anything the Spirit of Dead Matter would not do
To keep His Crown? Would He hesitate to
**** his enemies, his doubters, those who resembled his most awful victims –
To black the Light and ash the Rivers and irradiate the Airs of those
Lands which gave succor to his last craven opponents –
To freeze in soundless Vacuum the last voices modeling any meaning –
To steal in the night the last pulsebeats or lightward twistings leaving
In their place only brazen clockwork,
Verdigrised,
Badly made,
Maloccluded snapping cogs and the last sensations the screech of unlubricated parts seizing in a deathlock
While over the last junkyard muzak tinntinnabs-----

Hell to the Cheats He Hath Choked our respiration,
Howl for the Cheez, He Shalt ***** youse hart n sole.