God - you were a martyr

not worth praying

your grave won't be adorned with flowers

but with infants blood



Satan touched the dawn

and devoted the sky

to the powers

the sky born in the blood

but out wedlock



God, I scoff at your words

couse your graves been spat with fire

you won't be eternity

you won't be nothingness



The Subject on their knees

bitterly accept these moments

the satan is being coronated



Now

now satan's coronation