We see the dark side in your wicked soul,
your nakedness! a blood kiss from a corpse turning cold.
Render thy will for hollow hills of horror howls,
your manifestation the martyr! to be slaughtered at the altar.
Heed you loathsome harlot before his majesty of misery
cast down the last of thy faith in deliverance from forgiveness.
Take the serpent’s tongue as a favor to our father’s fate,
drink from the well of hate, a dedicated disciple at the devil’s gate.