A Pact with Belphegor

 By Ryan of the North

All hail the great lord of Moab,

Prince of the dawning Black Sun,

The radiant palace of invention,

I feel you writhing deep within,

You disruptor of the righteous workings,

I can bring riches beyond limit,

Without experiencing painful adversity,

If thou placeth total faith in me,

Treasure will find itself in your hands,

I know your guise Baal-of-Peor,

One who led astray Moses’ faithful,

Grand inventor of dark machinations,

I seek ingenious discoveries within,

The fruit beyond the shell of lethargy,

This key unlocks the laboratory doors,

The deep underworld of inspiration,

Your sloth is my nutrients in this world,

Feed me and I will map the way in,

To you my idleness is sacrificed,

I pour the blood of sludge into thy mouth,

My vow is to brave the torture of progression,

The change of a rock into liquid,

I will break out of this idle husk,

I am Belphegor of Pandemonium,

I vow to map the pathway into Hell’s laboratory,

Pass the gate of corpses that failed my test,

Go now and be thou prosperous,

But take heed this warning well,

Fail and give into idle ways of staleness,

And I will take what is owed in full out of thy soul,

You will rot from the deep within,

And I will afflict you with living death,

Hail Lord Belphegor!