"Come forth, my children of dust and flame..." From shadows deep, he rises cold, A tongue of silver, heart of stone. He speaks of secrets, lost and old, The keys of kings, the sins unknown. Through whispered lies, he binds their will, With ancient truths, their hearts he fills. Astaroth - Lord of whispered pride, Master of the hidden light. Through mind and soul, he claims his throne, In darkest hearts, his power sown. He offers knowledge, veiled in gold, Forbidden arts the brave behold. To rulers weak, to priests who kneel, He grants their wants, he seals their deals. His name inscribed on crimson stone, Their souls are marked, their fates his own. Astaroth - Lord of whispered pride, Master of the hidden light. Through mind and soul, he claims his throne, In darkest hearts, his power sown. No blade, no fire, no force required, His throne is built on hearts desired. Through whispers soft, through dreams he feeds, Their hunger breeds his darkened seeds. Among the thrones of Hell he stands, A prince of thought with open hands. In council dark, his seat secured, By wit and vice, his path ensured. While warlords clash with iron might, He rules unseen, in endless night. The world above, corrupt and weak, Shall bow to him they dared not seek. Astaroth - Lord of whispered pride, Master of the hidden light. Through mind and soul, he claims his throne, In darkest hearts, his power sown. The Cult ascends, his will proclaimed, In shadowed halls, they chant his name! "Astaroth… eternal mind… sovereign of the whispered throne…"
