Devil or devil's dam, I'll conjure thee: Blood will I draw on thee, thou art a witch, And straightway give thy soul to him thou servest. Burn! Burn the witch!

Dies irae, dies illa, Solvet saeclum in favilla. Quantus tremor est futurus, Quando judex est venturus, Confutatis maledictis, Flammis acribus addictis, Remedisti crusem passus, Tantus labor non sit cassus. With ash and blood the way was paved, which led us to the light Through fear, abasement, lies and pain in chains we wear on heart. Whip, steel and fire we’ve chosen once, in place of mind that gone, The church became the tyrant for us, on fear its stone throne. In pain and force of fire we trust, Since rise of ancient ages, Entrusting them the children of ours, Who don’t want to be slaves, (Blind and silent slaves). Now I am walking to the fire, lest come to be in hell Tread on my brothers’ mute remains, which hated lies as well, Under the thunder of the drums, under the bawl of crowd, And stone-cold look of bored monks, who wished to be my court. The bloody sweat of fear before the thing that’ll happen soon. Just catching for the look of those, I’m not a beast for whom. And found none I plainly see, there is not human face The fire is only place for me, the death is only grace. Voca me cum benectis. Oro supplex et acclinis, Cor contritum quasi cinis, Gere curam mei finis. Remedisti crusem passus, Tantus labor non sit cassus. Juste judex ultionis, Donum fac remissiones. I’ll be just ash before the nigtht And someone’ll step on me Free of the sanity and fear, Which burned much stronger than fire.

Born in the mud of disfigured faith, Nourished with superstitios fier and lies, They were foredoomed to be a humble herd, Which plods towards luring light of ancient rites. Ffom birth and till death they spend lives in Pathetic dressing which they as vurtue take, In simulacrum of imaginary holyness Covering with pathos of the ritual their futility. Fastened with dogmas remains of their faith The blinds lead the blinds, crowling up on their knees. Abrading them to bones, with no hope to achieve The light they can’t see in their proud insanity. Prudes in golden clothes look haughtly at their herd, Which hark reverently with open mouths, And feed them holy-smelling backward rusk They had recieved as spiritual inheritance. Father, when did you wash your disciples’ feet last time? Isn't pride and madness all you’ll leave behind? Liars and liars’ brood, now pay your bitter price For which your fathers dishallowed before And wich you are still raping now Do eat up the mana that has become the worms, Maybe one view on your corpses after the years Make you see the decay you were sometime deify!

The rage of thunderstorm will not disturb your sleep, And lightnings’ flashes will not touch your eyes. Desiring to taste forbidden pleasures’ sweet You’re ready to give yourself up to other’s will Bedazzled by lust you were delirious, Resigning yourself to evil spirit’s genius. Your carnal desires all became so real, And your soul was tainted by the profanity. Towards the fallen’s way you’ve made a step, Foredoomed yourself to be a temptation’s slave. You’re craving thoughtlessly for Incubus careses, Only carnal delights are important for you. Having cognized voluptuous ecstasy with demon, You are accepting your Tempter’s semen. And then you’ll have devil incarnate in your womb, To prolong his nature untill the Doom. Insatiable for lust, he was dethroned by the Lord Being in eternal pursuit for victims of his reward. To those whose thoughts are unholy he is indulging in passion, Righteous ones won’t ever redeem from his sinful seduction.

Fire of redemption and steel of repentance, Sanctified water will wash sinful blood. Recognition which taken under the tortures Plunges the victim’s soul into darkness. Guilty of atrocity will surely be proved, Torturer is skillful, intolerable pain is. Terrifying tools in his ruthless hands Will get recognition in submortem scream. Repentance in sins under fiery steel, Under the fear of unthinkable pain. Confession to torturer, suffering flesh, Suffering mind which can only be waiting for End of the pain in death’s embrace, In mercy of withering flame of their faith! In the stench of burning hair, In the smell of smoldering flesh Through the roar of the raging flame Sound of cursing are loudly heard To the clerical prudes who killing their herd For the name of that who died on the cross. Medieval terror which called inquisition Thousand souls have died in the flame. Rage of the crowd and clerical madness, Blood on their hands is indelible shame! Centuries-old madness under the banner of Christ. Puritans lead their slaves into holy war, Those who’s trembling in fear of eternal damnation And streams of blood drip down from the cross, Which they hold in their desecrating hands.

Strike by strike, lash nurses his back, Driving humility into the restless brain. Chains cut into the shreds of his flash, Bringing reassurance along with the pain And fear of endless curse and flame ahead. He tries to beat them out every night again. Only the screaming is filling the poor cell, Where slave of the God raises his pray, Begging to free him of carnal temptations, Strengthen his spirit and give him the patience. And scars on his back thereafter he wears With pride but humility mask on his face. How could he know the ways of the faith? Following words of his madness, he failed, Changing the spirit to meaningless rite, Obediently, gutless slave tortures himself. Thoughtlessly tortureing emaciated flash, Tormented by hunger, he prays day and night, And millions of churchmen are praying in vain, Under the loud and pleased satan’s laugh ”Forgive me, father, I have sinned” With penitential mug to the fat prist he speaks. So freely dropping pious tears from his eyes He does belive it is a true holy life. And all of shake he’s waiting for absolution of the Pope, and glad to kiss his hands when he recieves. Strike by strike, he implements his penance again Used living in the pain every day In hope which he recieved from the prists That executing will give all he needs. And prists like one tell only single word No one, but church can lead him to Lord Don’t dare to raise your head above the rite No one but only church is always right.

And humble herd goes to the immolation Led by the wily pastor’s voice Despite the promises of heaven close They all are doomed to the eternal curse. For nothing they entrusted to false words Which spoken from the name of God… Hiding his vices under priestly robe. Confessing new believes he was. And his blind slaves were lured again, Faint-heartedly accepted madman’s lies And mindless flock the loners have became Coming of the Messiah bleating they proclaimed. And thankfully their fetters they received And private needs apostasy they dubbed The voice of mind is dumb, they have precepts, Dictating how to live, and death to the disobedient. They were deceived, crowd didn’t know That caroled the liar in their prey, Harking the every single word is ready to obey And execute behests their father say. The liar loudly said – he’s seen the Lord, And heaven’s gates which are wide open there For those who give his life to God And praying will step into heat of flame. Three hundred buzzard’s ash is scattered by the wind And never speak about faked seers Which carry the insanity of they believes To innocents who always glad to hear. And humble herd goes to the immolation Led by the wily pastor’s voice Despite the promises of heaven close They all are doomed to the eternal curse. For nothing they entrusted to false words Which spoken from the name of God… Hiding his vices under priestly robe. Confessing new believes he was. And his blind slaves were lured again, Faint-heartedly accepted madman’s lies And mindless flock the loners have became Coming of the Messiah bleating they proclaimed. And thankfully their fetters they received And private needs apostasy they dubbed The voice of mind is dumb, they have precepts, Dictating how to live, and death to the disobedient. They were deceived, crowd didn’t know That caroled the liar in their prey, Harking the every single word is ready to obey And execute behests their father say. The liar loudly said – he’s seen the Lord, And heaven’s gates which are wide open there For those who give his life to God And praying will step into heat of flame. Three hundred buzzard’s ash is scattered by the wind And never speak about faked seers Which carry the insanity of their believes To innocents who always glad to hear.