Bitter Loss Hill of Hypocrisy

He, who is hung in Golgotha
is reveling in blood
Harridan pillars on fire
The age of the lunacy plague

Does he know where path of fear ends?
A thousand-year long oblivion of the one
whose body’s nailed to the cross
Weakness and lies, descent into dark

The lathee for sheep’s at the hand
the hour of holy epiphany has arrived
A sanguineous idol shall fill cup with blood
summoning to wake up corpse

In grave no one can hear your scream