---

So I set to wander, questions, revelations mine to ponder

Adrift in a fugue and burdened so by his call

What shall it profit a man, should it be these lives are ended by my hand?

After all I share blood with that bastard and his son...

But still, if I am to answer my friend,

If among the elect I still claim to stand

Is it not my duty to wreak vengeance as His hand?

So I shall dash them 'gainst the stones

Weep Sinners

The reckoning is at hand

I come before the Son of Man

You are liars and witches who speak naught but filth

O'er cursed altars shalt your blood be spilled

O Father, their roots grow sick with rot

And the fruit falls not far from the tree

Thus in righteous fury I shall grind their bones to dust

"Dost thou not see how they tremble at thy feet?

The perverse and the wicked, their flesh be thine to reap!"

For the black and iniquitous, I come

A Holy Avenger of Blood

Golden Sword in hand

Save me your sorrows

Spare me your tears

This work has only just begun

Oh dear brother, bereft of mothers virtue

It seems we share only her blood

Cursed thou art,and destined to rot

Blessed is he who is Chosen by God.

Like a flood

Drown me in his blood

Father

Failure

Sinner

Satan's Son