Liturgy of the Red Lamb
In pallid sky, our shepherd's watch.
With red and black and grey awash.
Guides wounded feet o'er barren stark.
'Round red raw soul, its flames burn dark.
To bleeding breast, its six draw close,
'Mid hellish halls and paths morose.
Their flail and thrash break wheels' cease.
The treasured, adoring lambs released.
Thirsting fallow, suffer slakes.
White wolves hunger, misery wakes.
Its crook and staff our gifts impart.
Its crowning glory rots mortal hearts.