Malice

Teeth behind lips, claws beneath skin,

You preached like a saint, but reeked of sin.

Venom in breath, silence your knife,

You butchered the soul and called it life.

Red robes clung to your withered pride,

Sanctified cruelty you could never hide.

Each word a snare, each glance a chain,

You baptized me in venom and pain.

No flame, no blade, just cold dread,

A ritual of ruin, the living dead.

Hell would flinch to see you feed,

On broken wills and sacred need.

But deep in the silence, fire stirred,

A spark defiant, sharp as a word.

No hope, no grace, just wrath reborn,

A storm of flame, a crown of thorn.

I rose from ash where you left me low,

Forged in the heat of all you sow.

With my bare hand, I command the flame,

The walls you built, I burn in my name.

Your gospel crumbles, your altar bleeds,

Your empire fed on suffering’s needs.

For every sin, for every theft,

The flames will cleanse, and none are left.

You kneel now, beneath my gaze,

No mask, no robe, no final praise.

Your crown turns to ash, your power devoured,

You burn in the temple your own hands powered.