Den of Wolves

Belie this, false confess, third eye will see the victim. The stalking, the hunting, the grounds will stain with blood. Unknowing, not showing, my motives lie beneath them. To capture, to conquer, their body is my splendor. The weeping, of virgins, their cries excite my rage. But too late, is their fate, their souls will go to hell. My offering, his pleasing, I love to see the suffering.

God, this soul I do deny...watch it burn in hell.

God, their flesh is mine defiled...watch her burn in hell.

The waking, the hours, at night I lay awake. My visions, horrific, the pain would stimulate. The carving, the tearing, mapping the flesh with steel. Invoking, my demons, releasing all the hatred. Their suffering, their crying, the lovely sounds intriguing! The dying, the hiding, their flesh entwined with soil. Forever, together, in hell we'll meet again...

Soul-less, crying, dying... rip, cut, torn, bleed. Cry, weep, sigh, bleed. Burning, scaring, searing... flesh, rips, chars, feeds. Soul-less, crying, dying... cuts, rips, tears, bleeds...