This falling begins with grieving limb. In the lust Hurricane you will break soul or will decay alive In distasteful spittle of the cerberus. Serpent decides fates, dooming it to hell!
Lower in dirt and shit bog of Styx you will lose your pride And will be roasted in own grave or simmering blood.
The word of lie calls demon to parasitize and eternally totorture you. Clandestine fears are turning souls in worms, That are swarming in decay of their disfeatured bodies. Insufferable cold... I feel your presence, lord!