Take it, make it holy

I'll be your most diabolical thing.

This agony, my infatuation, my blood smearing on my face, and my sobbing form your choir.

Oh, ravage my body, removing the cold and, cleansing it.

I pray - make it holy.

Let it be fit for your grace, suffocate it, consume it, take it.

And let me be born a new,

Whimpering and repeating,

The only god is you.