The Beast Withim

You who were voracious wolf

In ingenuous sheep skin

A tyrant who wanted to become a martyr

You, bastard, knew what would be your end

You were created by men

Who saw in your figure

The image of a divine king

Who would bring with your death salvation for the weak

My voice's my weapon

And if I need it

To crucify you once more

I won't hesitate to use it

'Cos everyday and every night

I carry you into the abyss

I gave you complete darkness

When in the valley of death

You went through in search of the light

And the salvation of your soul

Doubt and fear accompany you

When death kiss your pale face

Your whipped flesh is devoured by worms

And the smell of death exhales everywhere...

"Quantum nobis prodeste haec fabula Christi!"

I scream! You cry!

My wrath has the power of the storms

I live! You die!

Forever I'll rejoice about your death...

You have searched for heaven beyond the skies

But only black clouds arose above your head

Covering the full blood-bathed moon

Announcing your death, you bastard king!

Tears of blood flow out from your eyes

Your face expresses total pain

Dogs are ready on the look out

To steal your last breath

Your soul was dissected by your egocentrism

Your words would be used to decimate mobs

Castles of gold would be raised

With bricks full of innocent blood

The spear that dilacerates your flesh

And nails your sickly heart

Is the fury of my screams

And if I'll need this wild beast

To see you succumb before me once more...

...I won't hesitate to use it again and again.