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Through wastes, no mortal shall defy

Cataclysmic tales fester in his mind

From cliffs of old, he shall ride

In times unspoken, for in haste he goes unbound

Construct of outrage

A plight of death in the earth's primal youth

Faded subconscious, a trail of lies

False hopes that to the end

In purgatory, vengeance cries

I seek in vain

The head of viceran in my own grasp

His neck shall bleed, the damned will cry

Pray to the young gods, for the old now turn to dust