Ye've been toiling in the lab to remix some stronger potions
But corrosive? Nah, thy shit's weak - more like Tasur'ke beach lotion
Now I'll slather on pure slaughter; thy sun-scorched blather is no bother
Black Cathedral bells are ringing, come and listen to the Father

When ye spoke of blessed Evil, with neither wit nor elocution
Ye set in motion the events of thy poetic execution
Be not afraid when I begin, to cruelly spit this spiritual scripture
I won't need a thousand words for ye to start to see the picture

If thoughts of Strengths were hard to follow, I shall fill thy skull most hollow
We seek not the easy wins, in self-pity won't long wallow
Though our path is oft quite gory, and we're thought villains in this story
We act for ye, not just for us; we bring all peoples greater glory

Ye use the phrase 'de-coronation' knowing naught of our great nation
Endowed by God the Conqueror with quest to purify Creation
Tyranni wear no golden crown, nor jester hat like Blonk the clown
The bloodsteel shackle means to serve; to be raised up, we cast self down

And clothed in such humility, we cut out all traitors within
Sloth, forgiveness, laxity; every type of weakling sin
If any wish to start anew, wayward lambs who seek paths true
Reach out to me, forsake thy kin, and new life ye will soon begin

As for ye Blonk, it's plain to see, ye've not a shadow of a prayer
In life's grand game ye're spectating, and I am the most-valued player
Adults are speaking, child, so hush - bound by crystalism silence
Lest ye inspire some of us to greater acts of written violence.

Penned by my hand on the 23rd of Aeguary, in the year 955 AF.