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Oh, father can you hear my plea?
We bow before Infernal Majesty
Miasma, mist most befouled
Decimate the unavowed creatures of despair
Fiend of the Night Air
Grimoire's cursed ancient texts, bound in skin of those it's hexed
Submit to the pagan gods, pledge your service in a bloody bond
Conduct rites with your last breath, unfurl a miasma of death
Putrid scent from the fire, nothing but bone and iron
The charred remains spewing forth toxic mists. Noxious fumes course in their veins.
Beyond this coil, pestilence in the womb. Rise again from profaned soil.
Persecute the covens. Vile creation of a darkened faith.

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