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A hollow husk, formed of malice and hate

Empty to the touch, frostbitten and decayed

Mors grata est

Wasting away to the winds, an empty figure stained in the innocent

Stretch forth your palms, tainted blade and bloody cross

Mors grata est

You hellion, serpent of the garden

Mastication of flesh, such an era of madness

You pull from the flock, slaughter of the sick and the withering

Your damnation holds no mercy, total waste of humanity

Such a foul beast cascading out from the sea

May whomever have ears hear him speak;

"I am the immolation

The holy degradation

I am the horror

I am forever"