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A yearning for blood, a grim exhortation.

A demand for tribute of the darkest kind.

The deepest devotion, indelibly staining red.

Spreading over the very fabric of a once simple existence,

altering the course and purpose of a mundane civilization

forevermore.

My great work of ages

Transmutating into something more

killers reborn, higher purpose attained as agents of chaos,

baptised in freshly shed rivers of lifeblood,

with a constitution most stone-like and cold.

My flock, black congregation

sanctimonious devotion unwavering,

knights of a licentious code.

Salivating, dripping with spite

at the taste of power and all it promises.

Writhing in acrimony

a sea of twisted, visages

gripped tightly by insatiable avarice and envy,

stealthy and lethal.

The tremors of an impending death...

A panoramic vista of hate-fueled violence and barbarism

unfurls itself across this barren wasteland,

...grow more violent, more frequent.

From horizon to horizon, a crimson swath of death is cut;

a caesarean monstrosity spilling forth fresh bodies.

A great reaping is at hand...

Striking forth with impunity.

Weapons crash down upon chitinous armor,

the putrid ichor of innumerable dead.

As scavengers feast on scattered remains,

as blood seeps forth from mortal wounds in crimson rivulets,

Defleshed and defaced, sacrificial offerings,

The freshly flensed skulls of our enemies instill awe and terror,

revered as trophies of the foulest kind,

Sinews, shards of bone and discarded flesh litter the battlefield,

a mass expiration; deafening choir of last breaths,

purgation of millions.