the corpses in mud so incorrupt and alluring
as are relics of sinless saints from times past

I can no longer bear this eternal divinity
blessed and sanctified by the moldering devil

I have become a living incarnation of nefas
enthralled by the ecstasy of my own perdition

I soundlessly hex into the dark sunless fog  
along with the songs of the sinners as prayer
a quiet hymn to the cursed wretched souls
inaudible whispers begin to surround me