Let it be told

That our penchant for blood

Is sacred in design



Let it be known

That our penance for our gods

Is pure and unified



Heed not for our sins

For our sins hath no path

Of impurities

For it is I who will conquer

This plane of existence



Heed not for our scrolls

For our text hath no path

Of deviation

For it is I who will transcend to

This plane of existence



We must appease the gods

For fear of obliteration

We fast as part of our offerings

As we pray for the sun and

The rain to appear



I shall exact my revenge

For I am the top of the hierarchy

Heir to a tradition of unification

For I am the mother and the father

And the heart of our domain

I am the wiseman

I am a thing of evil