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 [bad word] 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...

(whisper): 
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...