I am not what I seem to be
This flesh is not reality
In some fantasy it may be cookies to go with the wine
In a dream it could be a rigid phallus inside of you
Silently through lifeless corridors
One where [bad word] lie scattered,
one where the seeds of thousand saints burn and suffer the
agonies of the damned
Within you, beaten, whipped, so intensely [bad word] 
I infect you with death
And when you swallow me, drinking the wine of insanity
Collapse into sickening divinity
I am the [bad word] god, I am superman, I am silent, I am invisible, I am the shadow of a shadow
I am unspoken, I am unsung, unseen
I am in your head, but I have never been
I am a reflection from a shattered looking glass
I am god
I am nothing, I am the devil in your flesh
And I am the whimper of the whipped beast