Lo, before the dawn took flame,
there stirred a Worm without a name.
Not born of light, nor cast from sin,
but hunger shaped its form within.
Where reason blooms, it learns disdain,
and drinks the stars like drops of rain.
Through silent seas of thought it crept,
where even timeless gods once wept.
It fed on realms where logic slept,
and worlds forgot the vows they kept.
No mercy marks its crawling trail,
no prayer, no law, no hope prevail.
The moons grew pale beneath its gaze,
the suns collapsed to ashen haze.
Even Lunatharoth withdrew,
when the Worm's cold malice drew.
For it devours both night and creed —
the will, the dream, the boundless seed.
From lattice deep to thought's design,
it feasts on truth and ends the line.
The planes of being twist and fade,
the roots of meaning left decayed.
No sound, no pulse, no godly plea —
just silence folding endlessly.
The Scholars wrote in Da'at's flame,
"No wisdom dares to speak its name."
They burned their scrolls to hide its reach,
but ash itself became its feast.
For even fire, proud and pure,
was eaten by what would endure.
Some claim it thinks, with hate refined,
a will that gnaws through space and mind.
Others say no thought abides,
that thought itself is what it hides.
A crawling truth with no remorse,
a grave that eats its own discourse.
Universes, proud and vast,
collapse within its banquet past.
Meta-realms quake, gods dismay,
as order rots and laws decay.
Infinity bends, its towers fall,
for the Worm consumes them all.
No form it takes, yet all obey,
its tongue the screams that fade away.
Its purpose—pure unmaking's song,
where right and ruin both belong.
It feeds on all, and when it's through,
it turns to feed on silence too.
When suns are dust and time is still,
its coils shall crown creation's hill.
No witness left, no light to call,
just hush eternal over all.
And through the void where being ends,
no truth remains, no word transcends.
So whispers dust, so fades the flame,
"All born to thought returns the same.
For deep beneath both god and soul,
the Worm fulfills the final role.
Beneath all truths the Worm shall crawl —
and beneath the Worm,
nothing at all."