by Nick Gisburne
Take pleasure in the wickedness to come
Rejoice to see the chaos you create
Bring suffering and sickness to the numb
For they shall know the majesty of hate
The world, and all its promises, must die
No quarter can be given, no relief
Leave every wretched creature dead and dry
Abandoned by the lies of their belief
The guardian of mercy is no more
Defeated by the architect of death
Extinguish these, the people you abhor
And celebrate each final, broken breath
I give this task to you, my second son
For this is how my vengeance shall be done
