Feral Gates of Flesh

My father, change my name
 The one I've used til now is covered with
 fear and filth and cowardice and shame
 I, mangled not by the maw, but by the slip
 The cunning writhe by which the jaws were prised
 O, the gulf that lies
 Between the sign of man
 And this feral fire
 I know the howl, I know the hound
 Fleeing from the trap, into the hunter's jaws
 It comes for me, hunting
 Over moors
 Though thorn and gorse
 Feral footsteps fall
 Like a summons to all my foolish blood
 It's coming through the trees
 Across the gulf that lies
 Betwixt, between the sign of man
 And this feral fire
 Over chasm'd distance it comes for me
 Over moors
 Through thorn and gorse
 Feral footsteps fall
 You are the scent I follow always
 Hunting after God