Hoc Sanguine Damus

Freed from the earthly bonds

A shadow from the depths of the pond

Offerings spattering the banks

Flagellant scars across the flanks

Does this not purge the sin

Bleeding it out from within

Who among us tries and fails

That they need not the cat-o'-nine-tails

Purging the sickness of the blood

Crimson drops to mix with mud

By this stagnant water an altar of pain

Though I fear these bloody whips are in vain

They offer not salvation's security

But a cimmerian ugliness to unmarked purity