The Pentacle Star
Cast down in mortal disguise
Belittles himself among the pagans
With razor sharp precision
He carves another prize of death

Not willing to hear pathetic pleas for life

Thought to all in life as kind
Surgical seduction, he lifts the gleaming blade
To taste the tainted blood of desire
Embedding the blade into harlot flesh

Not willing to hear pathetic pleas for life

Theme

Strategically placed mutilation
He shall then complete the pentacle circle
He's been never caught nor found
A grave sickness, never to be equaled