God - you were a martyr   not worth praying   your grave won't be adorned with flowers   but with infants blood      Satan touched the dawn   and devoted the sky   to the powers   the sky born in the blood   but out wedlock      God, I scoff at your words   couse your graves been spat with fire   you won't be eternity   you won't be nothingness      The Subject on their knees   bitterly accept these moments   the satan is being coronated      Now   now satan's coronation