Wrath, for too long you have been silent
Whip, punish me once again, the bleeding passion lies cold
Colder than cutting blades
I bring the screams of thousand whores
Crucified on their own beds
I bless the pestilence of thousand mothers
Impregnated through the purest demons seed
Descend to Assiah disciple of death
Crowned and pregnant the snakes brood hate
Fed on blasphemous and carnal delights
Brought up devouring the sores of Christ
I bring the strength of thousand words engraved on the blood womb of sin
I shed the grief of dueling brothers
Clamor of grinding symphony of screams
My voice is called whip!
Wrath, for too long you have been silent
Whip, punish me once again, the bleeding passion lies cold
Colder than cutting blades
I bring the groans of thousand fallen angels
Chained and impaled by the breath of your diseases
I bring the cries of thousand children baptized with