Xipe Totec

Cloaked in a veneer of death
The defeated’s putrescence
Drawn in every breath
The third month approaches
The red smoking mirror encroaches
Twenty dawns arise!
By bone wand baptize
Through a decaying face
Gaze into a living god’s eyes
Twenty suns set!
Shed the mantle with no lament
Your flesh gives us power
Our enemies failure, (their) final regret
Godly existence behind decay
The night drinker