Flagellating your pale cold skin,

I desire for more

Beholding those deep bleeding wounds

I wish I could return you back to life

To start my feast all over again...



Whip bleeds my own skin now fiercefully

I expect the pain, although it passes away

Leaving me in utter bitterness

I await the night, when I may spread my wings

And reach the skies far above the wooden pantheon...

I await the night and the storm it brings

To conquer these lands of pride and joy

To blacken their souls and deprave their minds...



I'm true and faithful servant of those

Who came here long before the earth was born

I'm their messanger and archangel

Condemned to dwell behind these burning gates

Of sullen silent spheres...



I know not if I'm a vital being

But it should be so, since I scent the honied blood of females...

I lick them, rape them, slaughter them...

Wretched pathetic humans...



I make them weep, make them shriek and ask forgiveness...

Seeking delight in pain and suffering, oh so sweet...



When sun sets beyond the snowy mountains

And wolves howl at the fullmoon

Crescent skies tumble into glowing shade of agony,

So bizarre...



The shadowy inmaterial spectres invite me

To join their exalted hellish dance

The night blackens with storm, breed by Ancient Ones

And I lust for their return more than ever before...