Shrine Of Malice Beelzebub
It comes in waves
The urges pull me
Masking the disease
I've been swayed
Possessing, unnerving
What's become of me?
Possessing, unnerving me
What's becoming?
Legions of dead prophecies curse the weak
The grove of deceit
Perilous wings overshadow your perception of time
Father
My soul torn from flesh
Apollyon, bring forth rebirth
I am the scratch on your back
The snarl in your sleep
The anchor of sin
The salient of your desire
Impede me and you will writhe in my name
Breathe in the anxiety, feast upon thee
Your soulless corpse
My chalice to the mortal plane
Heathen
Squirm in your coma
Heathen
Understand that I, the leech
I wish to sway you
Command you
I wish to become of you
No restraint to my wish
I will pick what I want from your hands
Leaving you at my knees, slain by my treachery
Possession of the wretched
A command amongst the senseless
Masking the venom
I, beast, rape you of your senses
Vile didactic, traumatizing your psyche
I revel in shadows my presence latched to your feeble mind
Grasping a hold of your body, you shall become mine
Accept my calling, mortal - fear the wings of the fly
Beelzebub
Crawl into my skin
Beelzebub
Make me your host again
Hark my calling, hark my calling
Beelzebub
Make me your host again
