A thousand unnamed voices does He keep.
The countless souls devoured are His corps
As He slumbers in the womb of darkened deep.

What unfathomable nightmares to behold,
The victims of my Lord's divine rancor.
A thousand unnamed voices does He keep.

Declaring each a servant to His throne,
Empowered by the screams the weak abhor
As He slumbers in the womb of darkened deep.

Each fearful plea and wail He names His own.
His wrath consumes; with dread, His prey deplore.
A thousand unnamed voices does He keep.

His feast, a gluttonous fare of torrid brimstone!
Oh, woe to those who wake His fearsome roar
As He slumbers in the womb of darkened deep.

Most mystifying sight the eye has known,
More awful than the oldest tales of lore.
A thousand unnamed voices does He keep
As He slumbers in the womb of darkened deep.