Possessed by spirits my body feels cold
black blood in my veins, gloomy aura surrounds me
pale is my skin, empty of soul
reborn in blasphemy, the whip of mankind I am
I am the messenger of the forthcoming chaos
I am the curse spoken in ancient times
I am the beholder of the seven secrets
and blackened knowledge is mine
Invoked by demons, praised by the witches
worshipped by the undead, feared by the living
the art of suffering, done to perfection by my hands
the prediction of hate, fulfilled through my birth