Spells lay daggers before me
Passion speaks in grue vehement stabs
Trance my eyes; fix my focus to pain
The tumour grows until the enemy is slain
(Gut the Church)
Slightless storm
Knee-deep in hate I seethe
My purpose here has woken to Breath
Total war on the brethren of Men
Millions regardless
Dying by my hand
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