---

Queen of Night, imbibe my soul

as mutinously I take hold.

Your roots buried in grassy knolls

of lands untainted once before.

My spirit's remains

are quickly washed away;

a kill made here in vain

would have our souls now trade.

As I enter the corpse that's left,

of my own will I am now reft.

Made now to observe the rest

from the rotting matron's chest.

The others bow before the theft

which renders me now powerless,

a silent witness to their end.

They still assume that she is dead.

And as they turn around

I see my brothers drained,

dragged down into the ground

deluged there by the rain.

Inundated by the flood

of that which spilled from holes we bored.

Sacrificed in righteous blood

shed of the idols they've adored;

and the murders and the offerings

that we made paled in light of their own.

And the further from the god they preach

we have strayed, the more they've clung to their thrones.

The land was choked, the waters putrified

by the blood of their own Christ, for which the night has atoned.

The cost we paid for the losses we suffer,

all the pain were not enough to save our souls.

We're immersed as the years pass,

never to be exhumed.

I hear new footsteps on our path

With every new blood moon.