The Beast Withim

You who were voracious wolf
In ingenuous sheep skin
A tyrant who wanted to become a martyr
You, bastard, knew what would be your end

You were created by men
Who saw in your figure
The image of a divine king
Who would bring with your death salvation for the weak

My voice's my weapon
And if I need it
To crucify you once more
I won't hesitate to use it
'Cos everyday and every night
I carry you into the abyss

I gave you complete darkness
When in the valley of death
You went through in search of the light
And the salvation of your soul

Doubt and fear accompany you
When death kiss your pale face
Your whipped flesh is devoured by worms
And the smell of death exhales everywhere...

"Quantum nobis prodeste haec fabula Christi!"

I scream! You cry!
My wrath has the power of the storms
I live! You die!
Forever I'll rejoice about your death...

You have searched for heaven beyond the skies
But only black clouds arose above your head
Covering the full blood-bathed moon
Announcing your death, you bastard king!

Tears of blood flow out from your eyes
Your face expresses total pain
Dogs are ready on the look out
To steal your last breath

Your soul was dissected by your egocentrism
Your words would be used to decimate mobs
Castles of gold would be raised
With bricks full of innocent blood

The spear that dilacerates your flesh
And nails your sickly heart
Is the fury of my screams
And if I'll need this wild beast
To see you succumb before me once more...
...I won't hesitate to use it again and again.