(Lorenzo Partida)
You hate happiness
You worshippers of death
Fighting your kidneys explode
Feeling isolated and ambushed
Life ends in your hands
In your grey hostile war
Death appears new and ferocious
The holy grace agonizes
A broken heart of misfortune
The blood that you spill drips in vain
Opening channels under the earth
Septic veneration
Broken under shredded rags
The souls sob and beg for mercy
In shame are the stains of justice
Horns of sulfur will fall
Harsh journeys carry your feet
Rivers of blood are flowing
All without consolation
Drown in painful lamentation
To ravage all the southern skies
To crack the silence of destiny
Your wish sickens the falling rain
With the blood of your own insides
Your eyes contemplate darkness
Big tears are sliding
On your tormented brain
Septic veneration
Septic venerati