May my eye not see evil as I stand on this miasma of prophethood
May my soul not be beleaguered by these troops of luciferous messiahs
The ambrosia is being consumed by mere mortals, the gods' food!
The altar is being robbed by these honey-tongued liars
Dead bodies ushering in the new converts into our Tabernacle of decadence
Let the unclad ladies with fiery wings bring in the unholy communion
Please may you step aside and let our defiled Priestess set the altar?
While the heavily-bearded man-monster recite a verse from the book of iniquitous glossary
Then we can listen to the lass in transparent veils supplicate with the jinxed rosary
Let us raise our voices in exultation to the Lord as we drop three coins into the preacher's hat
One for us, the second on behalf of the preacher, and the third on behalf of the hobo on our street, all in the preacher's hat
Let us ask the father for forgiveness, so we may sometime soon, sin against the son, without guilt
Let us slaughter all the souls in Tabernacle adjacent to ours
So that we may be blest with Seventy Virgins clothed in red robes of phantasm and black veils of illusion
Rejoice! O Ye adherents of futility garbed in spurious genuflection
A reincarnation is at hand! So let us hasten this sacred Holocaust
With your robes and headgears, let us march forward to the warfronts of this theistic genocide
Even God, cannot make us bury this ecclesiastical hatchet of imprudence
Even the Lord which we march forth to defend, cannot mitigate the war of our quarrel
When the streets have been drenched in blood
And the roofs decorated with limbs
And we dance around the inferno, feasting over our foolishness
Then we would saunter, nay, strut into our fools' paradise
With our heads down and feet up, and His Dominion still will reigneth forevermore, Amin.
©2016
Scribe Royale™
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