Hammer Of The Witches

Breasted red dementias
Familiar with theri suckled hostess
Unhinge her bridle scold
A quest for misadvenutre
Wrest her glade of buckled gnosis
From bloodstained floor to holy centrefold
Death is tensing to explode
Inquisitioners sought her
Scentin the bent in her veins
Stripped and readied for torture
Enslaved to shame
The fist of humanity taught her
Scissors and spike tourniquet
Dionvisian daughter
Pressed to confess from the pain
I say «toll the demon bell
The rotting hearts of Man
Shall light the path from hell»
Vestal desecrators
Familiar with her secret ewers
Soon tied to licking the flame
Rest their «tests"for later
As seet revenge from reeking sewers
Uncoils and slides amidst this unfair game
Unleash the fucking curse…
Crawling from the shadows of God
Now their fables turn, blind faith learns
Papal sermon oft have lied
Save that the vocen the Black Goat governs
Is very much wide-eved alive
She summons proof
On virulent wings, a plague is coming
From mating with the devil
On the torchilt brocken
Baphometic by design
A penchant vent for vengeance
Cut deep by horrors fought
those dungeon-screams for mercy
Shalt kept for everybody
Nine circles down they heard her
Ten times the hecatomb
A thousand souls for those church-murdered
Their punishment overdue
Striking unbiblical chords that roar
Invoke raw branded skies
As forked lightining feeds the hordes of war
Her broken hands revive
For sisters, missed, once powerless
Tongues torn out by the root
Fell wishpers rose to a a seething congress
Of spirits horn for Death’s pursuit
Never a dusk so drunk on lust
Caressed the cobbles red
Frights she called, the flights of Ghouls
Left little on theri brittle flesh
Judgment night descended
Like the bonfire’s fall of ashes
Inquisitioner slaughtered
Venting the dent in her brain
Stripped and readied, debauchers
Prepared to stain
The gist of huminty taught her
Dionysian daughter
Soon to deliver the pain
I say «toll the demon bell
the rotting hearts man
shall beat the path to Hell»
An refreshed of this dementia
Their thumbscrews
Pears and cruel whiplashes
She turn her craft
To the nex fat sacred grove