Kriegsmaschine - The Fall,in All Its Glory

Covered in infant blood and angelic faeces,
stalking through the crumbling ruins of Basileia,
a putrid, odious disturbance in perfect balance
of the primal void.
A blind, sickening malediction with only one urge:
to relentlessly grow its warm, bubbling pulp of life.
What insolence does it take to consciously reject
the Fall as the natural condition of Man?
A monument of abhorrent revelations.
The brightest fire of the Devil burns dimly as it lives
and moves in those who know the Self as one...
What a pityful spectacle, to witness the Finite
cling to the supposed importance of their lives.
And yet what a delight to Bestiae,
the sparks of Infinity burning within the Disciples.
Warm organic mud, degenerated descendants of Adam,
enslaved by futile self-preseving instincts,
faithfully bowing down to the crumbling illusion of hope...
What disgusting, wormlike, humane pride
does it take to reject a logical conclusion,
acknowledging the faint hope of Christ
while the Fall has already come
in all its glory...