Let it be told   That our penchant for blood   Is sacred in design      Let it be known   That our penance for our gods   Is pure and unified      Heed not for our sins   For our sins hath no path   Of impurities   For it is I who will conquer   This plane of existence      Heed not for our scrolls   For our text hath no path   Of deviation   For it is I who will transcend to   This plane of existence      We must appease the gods   For fear of obliteration   We fast as part of our offerings   As we pray for the sun and   The rain to appear      I shall exact my revenge   For I am the top of the hierarchy   Heir to a tradition of unification   For I am the mother and the father   And the heart of our domain   I am the wiseman   I am a thing of evil