Groza III

Now I am become death
Crawling, slithering along the edge
Shattered splinters, frozen in an eruption of light

Craving for stench of divine rot
Scratching the bare core of hideous truth
Wherewith shall it be received
When the soul's precious vessel lies ruined and lost?

Now I am become death
Pierced by those signals of transcendence
Right at the 5 minutes of salvation

The bitter blood of the Lamb
Shattered grace. Ashen virtue
The horror. The horror
A precious jewel of His making

And as the light embraces the wanderer
As knees bend as thought is obliterated
With the very moment that resistance has ceased
Now, I am become death, the enemy of man