O serpent-tongued mother, O whispering shade,
I call from the black where the sinners are laid.
Take me, unholy one, flesh torn and bare,
Bind me in suffering, drown me in prayer.
Adele is yours, mark her in red,
Thread through her veins, crawl into her head.
Teach her the hunger, the ache, the despair,
Drag her to worship with hands in her hair.
O Mistress of torment, O Keeper of chains,
Drag me through pleasure, then drown me in pain.
Whisper the filth that I long to be told,
Ruin me softly, then take me in cold.
Darkness, embrace me, let shame be no more,
Carve out my mercy, my body is yours.
Make me your altar, your sacrifice sweet,
Break me, consume me, leave nothing beneath.
Adele is waiting, gasping, unwhole,
Take her, defile her, swallow her soul.
Baptized in shadow, made holy in sin,
Brand her in fire—now let it begin.