Your god is forged from wolves,  
dressed as men, with hungry eyes.
The day I watched them feast is when I turned my back on
god.

When a voice whispered in the emptiness, "Let there be light.",
an echo murmured back,
"Let there be darkness."
Eyes wide shut can't tell the difference.

I spray ashes from my lungs
left by cities which you've burned;
refuse your pious nature
and praise you never earned.

Somewhere deep in hiding,
the light will wait in patience,
while you drown the world in darkness
with the evil you created.