This is the unearthing of a morbid pestilence

For the wrath of my hand strikes the hour of abhorrence

I, father and captor of genocide, engulfed in rage

Yearning for the taste of carnage, a taste of thy youth's blood

False images who have spoke of malcontent of detestation atone for thy sins with a grizzly demise

For a wicked fate lay wait to greet thy spawns

Resting upon thine holy mountains

I, Elisha, the wisest within the hierarchy of holy prophets

Gifted is the hand that brings death under oath of no penalty from the heavens above

The successor of carnage and mutilation

May it cleanse the waters of Jericho

Purge the life

Damn their souls

Wretched swine

A writhing abomination of flesh, bone, and life

The intrusive dreams of bloodthirst

Holy crusades

Each open for the decimation

The visions of trickling blood

I shall bore the chest through tools of tooth, nails, and pelted flesh

Two bears shredding you to death

Commencing the purification

The created images of the most holy indoctrination

Misguided youth

Led astray from the eternal rules of my Ten Commandments

Surely not devout, I see fit my deadly beasts

They shall feast

Doomed against their will

Enduring the end of mortality

Locked in a limbo of pragmatic consequence

A bald man's vision

So says I, the father of genocide

All sins shall be repaid

Go up, you bald head

Go up, you bald head

You fucking worthless prophet