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The Theomachist

Isen Torr

Under the wax and wane, of a blood red moon
Your masters they beckon, as revelation looms
Your mewls and whispers, the tears you weep
As you usher in, your kings and queens

They drink to your doom, feast on your fear
Like whipped dogs you cower, in thralldom you kneel
Thine enemy holds sway, in these once mighty halls
And riven your flesh, by their carnassial caress

Through an undulating sea, of proselyte harlequins
An empyreal harbinger, the hellae maleficent
I bring burning black rays, of starless night reviled
On the torpid countenance, of ditheism (I micturate)

(Fight! Fight! Fight!)

Perish their house
To be stricken by might
Empowered by truth
For my freedom I fight
With sinew, with steel
For honour, for blood
Their wyrm tongues are severed
By victory's blade...

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