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Monuments carved on a stone

Nothingness perhaps is the shame

Blasphemy are mark of his throne

Rivers now runs out of pain

Empower the force of the dark

Through chamber and dungeons of his

Bringer of blasphemous art

Craving the blood thy priest..

Desolate....

Favour is up to his greed

Lust is the vital of his

His thy commandments is now just

Embarking thy war on their peace

Living is much of a dead

lurking the eyes of thy filth

Ravens now hunting the stench

Craving the blood of thy priest..