Demiurge of the Void

I’ll bring gates of despair on you
I’ll clap your children in irons
Through pain and fear you’ll worship me
The lizard tribe I bless
Dressed in habit made of snake’s skin
Let the whips
Of reptiles' tongues beat to my glory
Insult is my grace, contempt is my Host
This is lie I my body
This is revenue — my blood
I’ll turn away the order
And cut down the tree of life
You’ll recognize me by fruit
The storm, fire, anger, envy
With the poison of redemption I’ll infect your soul
I’ll flog your heart with the fear of condemnation
I’ll fix you to the around with the nails of sacrifice
You’ll love me as I loathe you
For the truth I say unto thee
On my behalf you’ll kill
Lust let nobody dare to question me
I am the propagator of fear
The shepherd of inert oxen
The lord of host, the master of iniquity
I am the Demiurge of the Void