---

Worm, reveal thyself
as the craven spirit,
of the corrupt and weak. Who viciously
bleed the sinking twilight,
of the holy mind.
Lord, come. Weep and tremble
with a righteous fury at this decline.
Claim your retribution.
Rotten Angel, revered opposer, O Angelstar,
Grant me the Abyss.

Descend and upend
the bronze cup of rebirth.
And scream with a voice that is thunder!
Etched in skin, sin of sins,
Plunge thee deep into the veins of wonder.

And thy false sun
will crack as glass,
And surround thy head
with a shameful crown
Of glittering brass.

There, beneath life's shattering weight
Spine twisted and bending low,
You who toil on the squirming path
With heart gasping and slow,
No peace, no respite, no hopeful hours
Come swiftly upon thy head.

For I will be your scythe
With eyes burning like a thousand stars,
And my path will be washed clean.
Immaculate with the steaming blood,
Of a reforged heart.

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