Wound was the heir, the ruler within fire
Closed my page,
As hatred reigned higher
I didn't notice a knife and hills covered with blood,
Was I the one who's life is most precious
To this new «god»?
Indeed I must be loved,
For I killed many thousands
I opened with highest fashion,
Pain didn't spare any of these pitiful humans,
That the whole earth is covered with tempest
And storm of urbans, lay bleeding
And kissing my beloved feet.
Shall I not wait for the greatest hour
When this «god» sees
The bloody shower?