How quaint the sour words of malice
to the Lilithian spawns
how cloying  the lime of the serpents
on blanched furry tongues
how infectious the bile of spiteful sirens
in fermented malaise
its the forum of the lily living carcasses
of the disfigured cravens
where in twisted verbosity heinous lies
are born to recoil diseased
and reinvest in bleeding red curse the linages
that cry and gnash in darkness
how fitting the penance of wickedness bears
the poisoned berries and fruits
that will ominously grace the banquets awaiting
to welcome your sold futures