Get thee behind me Emmanuel.
The gates of perdition are edged with pearl and gilt.
Beneath the altar, relics of my innocence;
Spilt wine, consecrated dripping from stigmatic hands.
Ex cathedra I exhume the execration.
Censor your thurible, no incense shrouds
The reeking entrails worn around your neck.
The holy lie, forbidden fruit tastes sweet;
But vengeance all the sweeter in the cold.
Dies irae, dies illa,
Solvet saeclum in favilla.
I speak no evil, though of evil speak;
A flayed conclave, in flesh enrobed.
Shamed light through sin-stained window steals,
An arrow accusatory descends.
Six points of blood upon the marble floor,
As eyes of turtle doves are plucked by crows.
Secrets of the sacristy in shattered silence torn,
No hell severe enough, no heaven to forgive.
Aish tamid burn it all.