The slate grey cloudnThat harnesses hailnUnto the hunter and huntednA haunting chordnOf longevity soundsnLike the voice of God in the rainnn“Thou who ridest onnThe wings of the windnDeign to commune with me”nnEssence of innermost arcanenExpositor of emblematic deathnCircle of black evocationsnAnd pactsnPentacles and sigils unholynThe lance, the nailsnThe cross and diademnThorned and bloodynn“In nomine dei nostrinSatanus luciferi excelsi”nnIncensed, the limbless formsnOf the first hournSing unto the moonnTreacherous rains thatnEncumber her waynSoak the habit throughnTo the skinnnThe almadel shuddersnWith the manifest formnA serene and angular figurenWith the taste of mensesnRich on the lipsnThe horned spirit seducesnn“I am the way, the truth and the life!”nnInchoate vision,nAbstruse, CharuchnLike a breathnCaptured in the night airnVersicles ‘ponnRoyalty of spiritsnOf the cardinal pointsnOf HellnThe bosom of the nightnBoasts a rhythm of stormsnWith a vagina wet with lustnShe dreams without sleepingnOf a goat faced godnAnd stigmata thatnDrips blood like winenHoly sisternI crave your benedictionnFor your indulgencenAnd intimacynBut your blessings are lostnOn an unholy hostnWillfully damnednSuch as me…