Scáth Na Déithe - The Maligner's Tongue

A warped memory, tarnished simulacrum Twisted portrayal of opposing vehemence Mother of fear, Your serpent offspring crawl, From liar’s quill strokes Their very being blemished by blame Their very existence reduced to sacrilege Self-imposed absence, Cold earth above, cold world advancing A spreading dissonance, adumbration of divine allure Every drying lake parch and crack the maligner’s tongue The elements assail, berate Airless gasps, empty lungs, waterless shores Incessant pursuit, antithesis of sanguine ambition The lake of semblant defeat overflowing to shelter and protect Passing ages are quick to forget, Canvas of memory fouled with hideous effigy Grotesque utterance, malicious, miraculous Thinning threads weaving truth through fetid epoch Patient the water holds steady The gradual murmur of pallid voices cast into the glare of open minds Ruined mother of disparaged portrayals Outstretched grasp through the thinning veil The morose cloud of twisted morals, Masks of piety Teaming beneath with the call of wretched words Bellowing below the murk, Waiting below the silt Rip the clouds from the sky, Her waters feed this land