The Serpent - Akercocke

The slate grey cloud

that harnesses hail

Unto the hunter and hunted

A haunting chord

of longevity sounds

like the voice of God in the rain

«Thou who ridest on the wings of the wind

deign to commune with me»

Essence of innermost arcana

Espositor of emblematic death

Circle of black evocations

and pacts

Pentacles and sigils unholy

The lance, the nails

The cross and diadem

Thorned and bloody

«In nomine dei nostri

satanus luciferi excelsi»

Incensed, the limbless forms

of their first hour

Sing unto the moon

Treacherous rains that

encumber her way

Soak the habit through

to the skin

The almadel shudders

with the manifest form

A serene and angular figure

With the taste of menses

rich on the lips

The horned spirit seduces

«I am the way,

the truth and the life»

Inchoate vision,

Abstruse, Charuch

Like a breath

captured in the night air

Versicles 'pon

royalty of spirits

of the cardinal points

of Hell

The bosom of night

boasts a rhythm of storms

With a vagina wet with lust

She dreams without sleeping

of a goat faced god

and stigmata that

drips blood like wine

Holy sister

I crave your benediction

for your indulgence

and intimacy

But your blessings are lost

on an unholy host

Willfully damned

such as me