I know you, Old Hag.
Who arrogantly struts in mosques-watcher of the sacred.
I, inhaler of the Black Curse, provoke your cowardly presence.
Through lighted suspension, my temple will scorn and cast you forth.
Hear the creaking hinges of the Sacred Portal ripped open.
You stab with invisible sword; while, I throttle your throat.
Towards my breast, and with poisoned tongue lick your cheek, to turn it black as coal.
My gangrenous wound becomes your body.
As I gloriously resolve to conquer the Most High.