Shackles slice her virgin wrists Blood now covers her tiny hands
How does thou receive this fate? Purity, innocence, encourage death
I also ask of you my lord For I understand the error of mans ways But of creation and the seven days When was created the murky haze From which the beast has risen
For this is your creation
Blackness, dripping stench
Standing now before her eyes Wings expanding...she's going to die The serpent gods apocalyptic smile
Come to me my demon brother Of us both and our fathers A failure of creation ... abomination