The Hoarfrost Gospel

Born of blood spilt by wretched bone and holy blade
To tear away realities façade
Birthing from its will and flesh
Firstborn seemed a great success
Choosing a path perilous and untrod
Firstborn betray their parent God

It's power great,  inspiring fear
Drawing priests from far and near
Firstborn teach them the old way
They must stop it without delay
Chanting an incantation from the war
They banish it to the nearest star

Full of wrath, plagued by disgrace
It lobs its essence into space
Crashing down upon the earth
Brings an end to firstborns mirth
Vengeance for its children's spurn
It devours each in turn

Once more complete, world grows cold
It brings the priests into the fold
No more will spawn make its power torn
Giving rise to the blessed Ichorborne
Soaring high its wings unfurled
Our God will freeze the world

World in ruins, crumbling to dust
With new spawn that it can trust
It devours all from place to place
When came upon the dreamers face
A silent death, no defiant scream
Our nightmare swallowed up the dream

Rending holes in space and time
We sing its praise with voice and rhyme
The Hoarfrost Regalia is the key
For this world to let it free
Reality shall end you poor sod
By the coming of our Ichorborne god!