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Now we see the ones amongst the others

Horned and foul

A vital piece to the puzzle

You’ll stand and meet your maker

The existence of your false prophets

Bares resemblance to our past tyrants

A sinister hand grasps at our being

This crown we’ll dispose of

The end we await

Pleased still are the wretched ones

The very heart of the universe

Baptized in muck and urgently defaced with waste

A will of a conscious scattered

The thrill of utopia battered

Now stand and meet your maker

The cries lost in the ether

Our lives thrust to the deceiver

Pulverized and manipulated by our own

Conquest of the ages

Millennia in darkness

Diseased and impotent

In the ruins of this filth

Infested and plagued kingdom

Our homes defiled

Burned down by the hands of oppression

We pray but the pleas are still in vain

Our solace is gone, we’ll perish alone

Entranced in a torturous cycle

Bleak sense of a volatile idol

The straining glare and hysterics

Fueled and guided by heretics

We are the ones who are fed upon

At the end of the world they lay the foundation

The malice within them manipulates

As the age of man finds an ill omened fate

A witness to the sickness at hand

Seeks solace in the madness of man

A witness to the sickness at hand

Seeks solace in the madness of man