Too late to be saved

Your prayers are futile
stop praying for a while,
And look into my eyes
see my soul?
See the stone cold whore?
She doesn't give a shit about your pain
She wants your soul
She wants your heart
Then she's hungry for more
The song of birds can't match the screams or the moans
The sex can't match the bloodshed or the bones
God left me to walk myself to hell alone
I'm making it, I try and I fall
But I'll make it, I'll climb higher, I know
I'll draw my sword and pierce your soul
I'll make you crawl in your own blood, I'll take your throne
So go ahead, pray for yourself and what you own
Because when I spread my wings, you'll be no more