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