In a rotten cross the wily serpent moves
The shadows of the wings of the fallen Lord's presence must dazzle Christ's goodness
Tears from the angels' rotten cheekbones gnaw
br/>The flood of grief's cycle of ungodliness's lasting wort-filled evil
The lofty humility of the spell, Thou Lord let me be stamped in Thy presence
In the shadow of Christ, the disciples of the serpent hide themselves, as the sky burns in flames