Grim Land of the Unforgiving

Deep dark plateau of dead bare trees,
Foggy air and fervent grounds,
The figure in black, still and soundless,
Grinning, he points at me.

Lustful, dominating, his claim is final,
No hope for comfort,
No chance for the light of day,
My heart is chained.
Impaled in blood and reproducing,
I grow in eternal sin.

From the shadows, the scythe I wield,
I become Death, slaying the saints,
Messengers of New God.
My painful sorrow I deliver,
Your soul I reign;
A vulnerable virgin I drag and rape
In the inferno pit of heat,
Dreadful, horrendous, and fatal misery!

This my unholy act of wrath
The helpless souls I feed to excess,
Never to be seen again.