We're at the end of times – those muttering vermin quiver their tongues,
Whilst our eyes are bearing the omen of impetuous judgment.
Bellowing spasmodically from the swelling scourge of their lungs
Merely carrion flies converge on our crowning achievement.
We're all part of a greater plan, this is the true truth - they jotted down
Spinelessly hiding their shadows behind the devil's open doors.
Bring forth your rotting oblation!
Starving into belief, rendered opaque with feign promises
Kneel down to your desire until your ribcages shatter your god-fearing hearts.
Your truth is just an accomplice to futility
The fulcrum of our invaluable knowledge -
Reduced to embers in this global crematorium.