Glorification of the cyclical moon Five points to be a sign for the horns Manifestation of the spherical flesh Seven wounds to light the way We sung as the hammer danced A dream of a loathing glare Forthright as the sun, from two burning spheres As torrents of abhorrence, the gleam swept through As the purest of flames The radiance from the first and the last Was slaughtering everything and all We rejoiced for we had wrought pain The conflagration of divinity in aeons Was brought forth in a flame from the west A shape clad in leather wings In the gleam of its blackened eyes Vast fires leapt in awe of the endless torture