there is a pentagram
and now the stone is gone
the whole heaven is black
the blackness of a mighty angel
his face and his wings and his rove and his armour all black

blow all your trumpets
for I will loose my hands from the mouth of the lion
and his roaring shall enkindle the worlds

I am he that swallowed up
death and victory
like the ash of dried leaves
the worlds are blown before me

let the stars burn in the fire of my nostrils
let the god and the spirits and the demons and the angels
be as motes dancing in the beam of my eye

is is hell unquenchable
bondslave of the curse
we give nothing
we take all