Pale horses galloping from the woods over the hill, into the morning light. White and cold-blue flags hang above howled tunes of death and destruction, the will of god. Morning star came forth to shatter skulls and tear apart the sinew. Holy demons divide the trees, ripping flesh from bone; sliced innards spill. Heretics died slowly, as hooves crush the heads of men into the mire. Honor lies in a grave, bled in the woods where our ancestors rot. Terror! Bloodletting frenzy! Kneel before the usurper! Beg on your knees for our loving cull! Rejoice! It is the time of celebration, for these armies only wish to spread the will of god. Looking up through heavy eyes, the blood seeps into the mud. Loved ones sent back into the earth. Horrific defilement corrupting the pure. Sent to Valhalla by the grace of god. Hallo Morgensonne. Rays of sunlight cast shadows on the earth. Where once I walked, is this all there is? Is it meant to be, we lose it all?