The Empty Chalice of the Semen of Saints
Under the floorboards encroaching the slugs
Exhuming a dynasty of the sickest men
Secret clan of princes of the holy
Lap with love nectar of their brethren
Round table masturbation oozes sperm
Twirling dancers vain with limp members
Suck out the flavor from Christ on a stick
Bring to new heights the orange embers
A dizziness captures
The weakness within
Lust has no restraints
Drink all of his gift
Leave not a drop in
The empty chalice of the semen of saints
Bishops building bridges from goodness to Hell
Through each devoured child they claim
Stamp the mark of devotion inside them
Rotting from heart to head to veins
Cauldron of entrails boiling and steaming
This endeavor of rats and poison
Never will come to an end it lives on
In the wasting shells of God’s children
So in the howl of night
When no wind is silent
Your last faith faints
As the priests belch
And slam to the table
The empty chalice of the semen of saints

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