As swarms of insects, set to dwell the earth. Murderous Cattle to feast upon their weak. Determined survivors, Yet flocks of lethal beasts. Hunt or be hunted or turn The other cheek. Give voice to the beast within – enter that howling hole! Withering tissue and bone, as holy as blocks of stone. Slaves to a will, immortal; to the divinely immoral. A dark pattern, immemorial. Man-Beast: the hangman of Life. War order revocation. Earth cleansing – un-creation! Hell dwellers' re-creation. Man-Beast: the hangman of life. But specks of sand in the wind, like palms on a futile Board played with laconic contempt. Your fate is in the Hands of the gods! Those ancient movements celebrating ugly death: a dance Of primal worship. Men to piles of shreds. The sound of Human instinct let loose from its chains: a symphony of Madness and exploding heads. React not with resistance but with faith and bliss! Lay down and perish in the flames of cold! The end might well be gruesome, but an end it is. Now witness one last miracle – you, faceless fools! Thought and voice to blood and scattered limbs, to vast Climes of carrion. Oozing forth from dead unseeing eyes; The one and Holy Ghost. A morbid carnation decorates the soil: corpses in blood Pools, splattered brains and ashes. The ruins lie coated in A film of human grease. Echoes of silence and wounds To brightly gush.