The coast is clear; the so-called mass came to end,
An arson is yet to take its course.
Men with inverted crosses and bloody make-up,
Smiling to an upcoming victorious mayhem.
Happiness, compassion, peace, he called it shit,
Sorrow and evil were music to the ears.
"If you looked at your spirit as monotheistic,
Then all is sick and perverted," he claimed proudly.
A lot of smoke but not so much fire,
Though there is a certain chance to something utmost.
With every spark he knew what was coming to persuasion,
"I define black metal! Black metal is me!"
Christians feeling that dark power is present
They feel the urge to fight it.
But the fatal flaw results they will only be more extreme.
Not only will they suffer, but the people in general.
Suppose this church is so stave, so beautiful,
If it formed debris, despair is in motion.
The man filled with havoc applauding with joy
Because he believed spreading grief was honorable.