A nail for the tongue, and two for the eyes

A wreath of thorns for thy mantle, with horns raised to the sky

May thy speech be endless war, and they gaze unending storms

Thy Black Nimbus A Gate, for numinous forms

May your breath be the plague, that precursor's death’s toll

And your footfall the quaking, that crushes the soul

May thy speech be endless war, and they gaze unending storms

Thy Black Nimbus A Gate, for numinous forms

Two nails for thy palms, and one for the feet

Enshrined in inversion, as the lambs stagger and bleat

May thy speech be endless war, and they gaze unending storms

Thy Black Nimbus A Gate, for numinous forms