Consumed by tongues of fire burning like PhlegethonHoly gardens reduced to ashExtinguishing light of hope, bringing the end of the daysWords of my gospel scatteredSacrilegious scorn spat in pale creedsThin is the line between pure being and pure nothingMy sole companion woe to TheeAt my commandLet the blood of the infants flood the streets of BethlehemO ye of little faith with ethics rotten in a moral cageDead meat thrown down to the wormsTo feed religious tumor corrupting marrow of repugnant swirlAt my commandLet the blood of the infants flood the streets of BethlehemAt my commandLet the heads of Samaritan pave my waysShemhamforashShemhamforashShemhamforash