O, ye whose future is in other hands!

Foul feeders! Slipped, are ye on you excrement?

Parasites! Having the world lousy,

Imagine ye are of significance to Heaven

I, who enjoy my body

[I] would rather pack with wolves

than enter your pest - houses



Sensation... Nutrition... Mastication... Procreation...!

This is your blind - worm cycle

Know ye of nothing further than your own stench?

Heaven is indifferent to your salvation or catastrophe



The sword - trust - not salve - I bring!



Honest was Sodom!

Your theology is a slime - pit of gibberish become ethics

In your world, where ignorance and deceit constitute felicity

Everything ends miserably - 

- besmirched with fratricidal blood.