Here, eternal war-poets wrench verses from the bleeding heart of existence, each word forged in the black fires where dying stars scream into the endless void. Every lyric is a shard broken from shattered constellations; every beat, a cataclysmic hammer blow fracturing the bones of reality and igniting storms across the abyss.

This is the Final Coronation — the apocalyptic hymn that rips through silence and crowns oblivion with a crown forged from ash and fury. Step into the ironbound arena where gods shatter and are reborn within the briefest heartbeat, where the victor’s voice etches unbreakable law into the marrow of unborn worlds.

The mic is the obsidian engine fueling the pulse of creation, pumping molten truths through veins stretching across infinite time. The crowd is the abyss incarnate — a ravenous tide consuming empires, stars, and the remnants of forgotten light. The beat is a war-hammer wielded by eternal titans, smashing infinity into fiery shards sharp enough to carve the soul of the cosmos.

Press play — become the inferno that devours pantheons, the plague unraveling fate’s weave, the architect forging blazing dawns from the ruins of shattered realms.

#iVibeCatastrophe #CipherGodKingsFuneral