Before the light of the lord,
Atop Christ’s altar,
I bow my head to the priest,
Savour the sound of my prayer

I eat the body of Jesus,
Drink the blood of the messiah,
Offer my heart to the lord,
Serenade the singing choir.

Mass ends and I am full,
Inner joy in me,
Yet as I leave I feel an evil
Somewhere within this shroud of glee.

I hide by the holy water,
And watch the priest,
The altar moves aside for him,
And my fear rises like yeast.

Calmly I tread his path,
Carefully in the shadows,
Quietly and slowly I step the route,
So he does not know who follows.

I emerge in a wide corridor,
Ivory horns adorn the walls,
A woman lies on a bloody altar,
And my skin angrily crawls.

I jump into hiding,
The watch him emerge,
Adorned with evil markings,
I feel the rage, a sudden urge.

He takes up the sacrificial knife,
And readies to plunge it down,
Just as the body nears the edge,
I knock him to the ground.

Angrily I club his head,
Smashing the urn into his skull,
Blood drips from the silent man,
I stand snorting like a bull.

The guard arrest the living priest,
His eyes burn my back,
Staring intently through the flesh,
Vowing that my soul he’ll attack.

The trial find him guilty,
Painfully, they nail him to the cross,
Who is his saviour now?
Silently, I mourn the coming loss.

For forty days he drifts to death,
Before his soul is dragged to the fire,
He may have been evil,
But did he need to die beneath this spire?