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Black blood of (the) dying smooth

White host, red wine

Still mute, still blind

Eclipse of thy ephemeral vesper

Hear them praying to me

Infinitessimal guil - the pure soul is a pure lie

Son of man stabbing my feet -  yet... Still

Lycantrophic's foetus transmutation

Skinless eyes searching doomsday truth

Supreme

I know I cross the limb

Too dispassionately

Master in lunacy

I've (got) individual frame

Non alternating into nothing

Over-weak vessel for content to fill it up

Being medium I imitate motions of moribund

The flesh was made word

The flesh was made war