I am to become
A black hole soul
All life does wither
And I am like womb

I am to become
Like a black cauldron
Where witches brew
Their black gall
They are here
To bring ruin in their wake
A shroud of misery they carry
And with it they cover me

Through hatred born
Chased by its flames
And by them burned
Ashen vessels remains
Yet the light they shine
Does reveal a path obscure
Leading far off
Away from the lie

No longer do I see
Death's claws, but wings
The final enemy, the lord of horror
Now as the king most high