Salvifici Doloris

Amok, we hurtle under the banner of night

To the discord of 13 tolls and trumpets 7
Against a world blithe with inertia
To certain death adorned by trident scars

Holy contagion upon virulent winds
Insidious in nature with divine purulent grace
Salvation lies in the scarlet womb of the whore
Blood of the saints, Blood of the martyrs

A masochistic sermon for charnel devotion
Exhorted from sallow throats and cruel twisted tongues
This child shall bury itself in a nameless grave
Still and pale, heeding to every behest

And the foreboding silence shatters
As the veil of all illusions burn
Estranged and in sinful veneration
The rupture of life, the call of perdition

In obeisance and with scarlet fervour
Malum quod intus est anima mea

Cast away in a sea of viscera
To drown in crimson redemption
Broken and scabbed lay the wings of peace
So come forth and befoul

Libation bleeds yes bleeds from these veins
Pierced by horns thrice
In hysteria’s golden dawn
We turn withershins
About the dying sun
Into the endless ever after