Narasimha Nakha Stuti

pāntvasmān puruhūtavairi-balavan-mātaṅga mādyadghaṭā kumbhōccādri-vipāṭanādhika-paṭu pratyēka vajrāyitāḥ śrīmat-kaṇṭhīravāsya-pratata-sunakharā dāritārātidūra pradhvasta-dhvānta śānta pravitata manasā bhāvitā bhūribhāgaiḥ

May the expansive and sharp nails of the beautiful lion-faced Lord protect us; nails which are each like a Vajra weapon, exceptionally skilled in tearing open the mountain-like frontal globes of the intoxicated elephants of Indra’s enemies (the demons), and which are meditated upon by the fortunate whose minds are peaceful and expansive after the darkness of ignorance has been utterly destroyed from afar.

lakṣmīkānta samantatō:'pi kalayan naivēśitustē samaṃ paśyāmyuttamavastu dūrataratōpāstaṃ rasō yō:'ṣṭamaḥ yadrōṣōtkaradakṣa nētra kuṭila prāntōtthitāgni sphurat khadyōtōpama viśphuliṅga-bhasitā brahmēśaśakrōtkarāḥ iti śrīmad ānandatīrtha bhagavat pādācārya viracitā śrī narasiṃha nakhastutiḥ sampūrṇam

O Lord of Lakshmi, even after searching everywhere, I do not see any superior object equal to You, the Lord; You are far beyond all else, like an eighth flavor beyond the known seven. The groups of Brahmas, Shivas, and Indras are reduced to ashes by the sparks, resembling fireflies, rising from the fire born of the curved corners of Your eyes during Your intense anger.