Tortorum - Grace Of Hatred

Offer your pleas to the deaf sky
Ye who bark like fucking dogs
Entreat with lowing and cold tears
May they staunch earth's dry appetite

The whips on your backs, dulcet, fall
With more sweetness
Than your mother's kiss
May your cries pierce the guts of heaven
And your blood drown this planet of shit

Drink deep the blood of your sons
May it choke your rotten lungs

No horizon spared, no flesh unscourged
By the gentle grace of total death
By the black whip of apocalyptic hatred

May sleep grant no rest
Till every last soul is dead
To the fist of annihilation
Till every last living vein is dry

Filling the ocean with blood!

I'll plant my seed in the fecund stomach
Of the still-warm corpse of mn
My child will be misery
Hs mother total hate
I'll tear the womb of nature
The leech that grows at her breast
To father a thousand sterile whores
And rape this planet to death