THE FRUITS OF SIN: Honors and nights, when the forests called my name Darkness embracing every hour of shame like a natural fever fleeting star strewn silver leaves whissping through the shameless breeze, a wind taunt breath of Demon’s scorn Piercing through the biding flesh untorn She sings a wind burnt winter’s song, that echoes through the forests long, her enchantment within, holding secrets devour Inside the catacomb walls so thin, Pieces of unholy light, Dare not come in and enter Her loins where men have worn A bitter tasting melody, a sin of all things evil Made of flesh and skin Here it lies in waiting slumber, Cooking, Festering, Saturated to the brim inside the catacomb walls wear thin perfect skies behold her revenge; (A sky so black, within the limits of this molding sin), The answer to her Lusted anger lies within The cold forest ground, her body subsides, Old Sin and New Sin Chanting inequities of the skin, in these leaves, the answer dwells beneath these trees, within the frozen ground Into this forest we must go to unearth her injustice covered with perfect snow... The longing for the Winter’s whore, came in silence, the seven stars are shining long, Darkening unholy scorn Dwelling into (the angel’s pron) The rusting of the Devil’s Horn Unholy Child, baptized in the waters of the Fruits of Mourn her body, with doubtful knowledge unto this law, will surely swell Within the boundaries of this forest wood, To the gates, Standing on these steps to Hell