And dacoits of every single natural emotion,
You are the creators of conspiracy theorists,
You are the lust in the savant’s devotion
Illegitimate children of Nostredame you are,
And devil worshippers just don’t compare,
To the evil you hold within your souls,
To the grin behind these faces austere
No exodus can depict your arrival,
Neither will one denote your fall,
No evidence screams of your existence,
Nothing’s a proof, except my gall
Minions and slaves of your amphibious gods,
Tried to devour me in epochs past,
I chained them and hung them inverted from the sky,
And this time I’ll administer the rectal mast
“Noumenon!, Noumenon!” I hear your chant,
As you are Romanticizing your malevolent designs,
Fearless, my mind bestows upon me now,
Every deterrent my conscious consigns
Prepare for combat, you unworthy foes,
I want a war no less than you desire,
Let’s leave behind some stories of gore,
A history in blood, never fails to inspire.
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