O, ye whose future is in other hands!
Foul feeders! Slipped, are ye on you excrement?
Parasites! Having the world
Imagine ye are of significance to Heaven
I, who enjoy my body
[I] would rather pack with wolves
than enter your pest -
Sensation... Nutrition... Mastication... Procreation...!
This is your blind - worm cycle
Know ye of nothing further
than your own stench?
Heaven is indifferent to your salvation or catastrophe
The sword - trust - not salve - I
Honest was Sodom!
Your theology is a slime - pit of gibberish become ethics
In your world, where ignorance and deceit
Everything ends miserably -
- besmirched with fratricidal blood.