Fyre made flesh On the Fields of Cremation Comes the Chariot of Blackened Fyre That brings fearsome Death I am the Fyre that enters the temple and eats the hearts of the priests I turn into ashes your offering, prayers to the false one Curse You All that gave up sight! Fall under that cross, image, dog None of you shall look upon you me I am the Horns of Death The One who pours the End Of flaming feathers and Ashes of Heavens No Holy sang As I, the Torture, walk through the Gardens of Ra I am the One who walks on my own flesh I drown you in streams of Hate As I bathe millions in pain Your strength melts under my gaze I carry my Throne on Black Lava of Abominations No Holy Name, No Seal, No Power closeth before my Fyre