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