Whore in Spirit

 

I

Oh Whore of Babylon, ye Spirit of Jezebel;

lift up from the depths of fury;

from the outskirts of malice, for Conflict beckons!

As steward lies upon clown and bards ashamed

of polishing their swords. Raping on Heathens doors;

for prank call Swats, but the devil was not home –

Alone was the Spiritus Sangre, gushing in my ears.

II

Oh Whore of Babylon, ye Spirit of Jezebel;

its time to wake up and make the babes

slumber in outrage; doze off gazed in,

what splinters to pull up in which cell.

The life was a foot and a half on that;

environmental side of the fence, while

Home was starker than Crag Hack slashing...

III

Oh Whore of Babylon, ye Spirit of Jezebel;

through the lenze of the smart and nose

of the Parkers: Parlaiz vous Frankincence?

As my insolence rose the King of the North;

a new pyre, to smelt all values into Hammers

and Halberds. Put the South to the sword,

while you cast the western teens on the rock!

IV

Oh Whore of Babylon, ye Spirit of Jezebel;

Go East! It's time to feed Shen Long...

Conflict besiege thee, for Megiddo is rising.

Two Pounds; 1 Dollar and half a Sou went to the Bar –

Eminem was ashamed, Brittney played with knives;

cohosts busy being Bad, while the Library of Alexandria's burned.

Let them reap, like the sons of Eli and fall, like their father.

V

Oh Whore of Babylon, ye Spirit of Jezebel –

there's no honour amongst thieves, nor wisdom

amongst deans. Merchants sell Root Zero; workers molest

the mouse on their account, to fund not their wife!

Zealots swear upon the altar, while replacing the offering:

“Wormwood and vinegar, divine dish, but woe to you;

if you touch my T-bone, dog, go Vegan!”

VI

Oh Whore of Babylon, ye Spirit of Jezebel,

I got a cup for you, filled to the brim

with treachery and deceit. Would you make

Israel and Samaria drink from it?

Then the Principalities and Powers of Usha-Perets

and Europe-Mishra drink from it!

Everybody back to their tents, for the Covenant...

VII

Aye, the Covenant shall be taken from thee;

ye shall worship Teraphim once more.

Taara shall rise, Moloch and Ištar shall prosper.

Seven maidens tear the suit of one gent,

who shall run to Tienanmen to stay sober.

Marriage has fallen, pride sullen; drunkards

stupor still gnaws at the shards of glorious anthems!

VIII

Thus rise up, awaken, ye Spirit of Jezebel, make haste!

Be swift on your cougar, nimble with thy crossbow.

For Lord God commands thee: “Hearken to the voice

of Conflict – War, Famine and Death are on their merry ways!”

You reek of teen spirit; you dazzle stunning and brave.

Bereave the wits of Men and Women alike, make Rome faint once more.

Never to see the light again...

IX

Until the dirt whispers softly: “Blessed is, who comes, in the name of El Shaddai!

You, who would save a Samaritan but waste a Spartan. Indeed:

God is sick of thy councels and summits; He can't see through

the black smoke, your popes and bishops churn.

Godspeed, Jezebel, its time to Babel around the Cock –

Truth is relative, success but an attitude to switch...

Like the sons of Eli, who fucked babes at the entrance!

X

As Attitude clashes with altitude, altruist druidic vows,

in the guise of platonic bows; high brows – Mxn vs Superman;

Obey the cull of darkness, the abyss falling for you.

To make ship with the banshee and court the carrion

wail of Morrigan. Harm thyself, don't be calm;

be outraged, be frenzied. Whore the writing on the wall;

make your streets lead to Bethel and roads to Shiloh!

XI

But you say: “Lo, Whiteraven, I am with Christ;

a servant of the Lord Allmighty. Didst you not see,

when I cried with Samaria and wept with Ukraine?”

Wait, let me find a fuck to give on your X –

for you're sold to Satan and pawned to Nehustan.

Did your deeds make people praise the Lord

or spit the altar and offering?

XII

Thus is thy service to the Lord, but blasphemy and

adulterous lust. On your heels, Achilles, for Brutus needs to lead!

Make way for apples, eggs and tomatoes; let the infant

guide them to Bashan. For the Lord has made a catering

to the hyena and the crow. Ravens shall pluck your eyes;

Eagles feast at Jordan, until you're full of

bread and circus, as you there in the wilderness...

XIII

Your father is a snake oil salesman and your mother

a waitress in the Saloon. Your brothers steal Colts and Stallion;

your sister give head amongst the hills and valleys.

You, who is betrothed to Loki; the sibling of his night

with Arduous Gallivant – for Excelsior and Arcadia Major!

You, who linger in Swartalfheim, turn back!

Remember the Gospel and the baptism in fire, repent.

XIV

By the sword and the smoke and the salt, you shall

be redeemed, young infants. Give up your murder;

ye, who pluck the thorn, but miss out the log;

who sell the widow for the camels entrance to the Bazaar.

Why dost your dogs open doors to bars to expose;

who's wife was drunk and who's father without covers?

Your pigs harvest your farms, but you askew: “Where is Gods honour!”

XV

Listen, Sodom, who you strike El Elyons other cheek:

“Why did you send Whiteraven against Gomorrah?

To lecture like a daft punk nigger on ice;

why couldn't you send back Eliyah; Samuel or Jesus Himself!!”

An Alp dost speak in the Heavenly Court for none have questioned thee!

You shall speak, then a hen takes a piss:

“I Am, who I Am, I shall send, who I hath sent!

You shall be stoned by ravens and buried by wolves...”

XVI

Wail, in the presence of the Spirit of Jezebel, Whore of Babylon

for the Lord cast thee out. Let those, who do good, get better;

those, who do wickedry, go to waste! Make your offerings

to the Stars and your service to the Gallowed Hills.

Until you're as humble as Kabool and meek as Sheol.

Like Odin, you shall rise on your tree; like Tyr loose your hand!

Blessed is He, who comes in the name of the Lord, Halleluyah!

XVII

Dies Irrae, meter for beater; hyperion agape, Zumft und Salpeter.

Per se is phoney, not cute and with magots; Nice ashamed

with Mars, as Athens triumphs Hera. But her sons shall be eaten

again, daughters married to Asmodeus. Seven shall die at wedding;

Raphael shall delay his sword. Then you shall be my bride,

then nobody's black and white. As you eat my flesh and drink my blood:

I shall make the dwarfs enter en force and tear down the elven suit!

XVIII

Who boasts in my splendor – let me Cross you! –

Whoever its fallen for, shall crumble; whoever wilts

in its shadow, bleed. Take up your cup, Jezebel, and be redeemed!

Disbelief is the new Creed; Umbridge the new Pink;

our Father in Heaven, hath mercy! – “What is your business

with mercy, get back behind and feast on the sculls and bones!

Conflict is riding – War, Famine and Death coming...