The beast I saw had no face,
but I could hear its howling.
A flesh arounded by dirt,
the anathema of beauty,
nature in its morbid way.
Its breath insuflates darkness,
like a sickened chant.
The ember of its two possessed eyes
which shrine by hate were Evil's one.

With power it rises,
a froth of raving madness.
Bones of victims bright to its glory;
an eternal one.
The alpha-wolf's anger is a call of war,
a blood-hate charge under the flag of demons.
Near its path of ashes, I'm in its gathering;
the congregation of the Dark Ones.