Feasting My Hatred

My dreams are full of your prayers
My dreams are full of your smell,
The air is full of your cries,
The air is full of your blood!

Your pale hands still reach me,
In my den of darkness and pain,
So i no more will linger,
So i went out for setting me free

Your senseless prattle still reach me
In the sullen den of my lust and destruction,
So i no more will linger,
So i went out for ending my anguish

My smile is made of your agony
My pleasure is made of your death
My laughter comes up with your ending
One by one - my genocide will sproud

I hear, you scream for torment,
While i am cutting flesh,
I hear, you yearn for more,
While i am breaking bones

Your death will be my fulfilled mission
I'll be the servant for feasting my hatred
Until i can immerse my burden
… off into your blood…