Xipe Totec

Cloaked in a veneer of death

The defeated's putrescence

Drawn in every breath

The third month approaches

The red smoking mirror encroaches

Twenty dawns arise!

By bone wand baptize

Through a decaying face

Gaze into a living god’s eyes

Twenty suns set!

Shed the mantle with no lament

Your flesh gives us power

Our enemies failure, (their) final regret

Godly existence behind decay

The night drinker