Her Dominion (Her Throat Labours at the Work of Felate)

Her throat labours at the work of felate A ghoul has stepped through her skin and into God And in this place she is bound to her God Bride of the rotting world, made by God Awful and beautiful to her eyes Because here, here love ends, here love dies Come the arrival of the God of all flies Consumed by her own slow-burn, bitter fire Utter, utter the words of her mind Mother, mother to all mankind Utter, utter all men will fall Day by day she steps closer to her crucifixion Fair ribbons of scarlet dance from her wrists Hard by the gates to hell, her crucifixion From her own sound creation She is brought into being