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Their blood spills at my feet

Howling in grevious pain

Blasphemic prophecies, spoken mouth to mouth

A devilish figure will come, and cleanse this filth

Impaled from within, a circle of candles you will die

Cut from the manger of lies

A baby is born

To a “virgin” whore

In the heinous slums

The trees around him crumble

Raped and pillaged

A saint kills a child

A mother cries

A father hangs himself

The old world dies