Night, with the darkness falling
Hand of Sathanas reigning down
Upon this coven
Bred in secrecy
To the wrath of God we pledge
Suffering and agony
Blessed by the will to end this tyranny

Death to the Golden Age at hand
To the ones who cast me down
And decree that I shall never see the light
Yet deceptively exact
All your magic and your spells
Aren’t enough to end this ghastly, ill-bred site

Silently awaiting clemency
Abhorrent forms, monumental relics of old
Shapeshifters, blessed once by entropy
Stand frozen in a premonition foretold