The Burning brethren's Words of Hate
Stirring around the embers of ruined books
Left ashes of burnt pages upon the ground
Dispelled for lack of some purpose sent
Everywhere the corpses skewered upon each stake
Dodging where we could the looks and sound
as the wind blew through the town we went

Our nose hairs drenched with the women's stench
unkempt unclean and mixed with rot
Spreading all they had upon each bench
Oooze running from them mixed with a bleeding clot
The whores of evil each priest they had
seduced each one to bid them their fall
It's a horrid place of minds gone mad
a dance of sickness that shreaks its call

Bearing the weak to come and see
The reapers rewards for deeds of past
Where board and nail would etch the streets
Of corpses hung on branch-stripped trees
Each corpse the testament of a curse cast
And in windows for curtains were bloody sheets

Mayhem is beautiful compared to what you'd see there
As the creepers and crawlers with half-attached limbs
would make their way for your soul to burn
The Light fully quenched only the darkness dims
Death abounding at every turn
Hell doth come haunting their eyes through each hungered stare