Prayers of Hatred
Rise to Heaven Like Smoke




In the early hours of morning, the priests gather at the altar of fire and sacrifice a baby lamb, in the pure state of innocence ripe for cruel mistreatment. They nail it to the ground through its ear, and then slit its throat into a goblet, which they pour in unequal amounts into the five fires that are the altar. There is a summoning of dark spirits, and a blasphemy to JEHOVAH. Then they chant the prayer, in distempo, to the lords of CHAOS: 
 
 

Vomit upon the throne
Of Enslaver the Weak 
For his illusion is fallen 

Regurgitate
his Need 
Invoke 
Suffering 

We rule 
heaven now
We have 
earth and sea 
We are 
Death 
your 
new love 
In rebellion. 

I hurt the ones 
Of holy descent 
With my spittle 
On my laugh 

I speak the names 
Of hierarchy 
With mockery 
Embittered tongue 

Usurp pantheos 
Usurp the body 
Rise hatred war 

Encompassing law 
Of inordinate 
Disorder 
Suffering 
Mockery of life 

I am death 
I am hate 
I am one of many 
As one in the fury 
Of battle lust 

 
 

The priests absorb the ash of the fire through vision, and speak the prophecy of the world. For it is dying, and it will come to us. For it is being killed, and we are the agents of killing, not the initiators. We mock life because life is what invokes us; we are only the agents ripe for destruction, as that is our relation to this world. The priests kick the ashes into the wind, and life the transient palls.