Conquest of a Dying Culture
Accursed Dawn
Along these once fresh and fertile fields;
Did we spread like wildfire, a swarming hatred;
Laying waste to all those who oppose our creed;
Like armies marching, on in death's name.
A storm of ideals, unbridled power;
False knowledge fashioned for our conquest;
Destruction's minions, with one aim in mind;
A free world for the taking.
Across these pure and sacred lands;
Did we plant our seeds, of deception;
Our blind faith and the fruits of our labor;
Lie in a failing system.
Rape and slaughter those who won't accept this;
We shall water our fields with all their blood;
A raging harvest wrought with disapproval;
The end result of our burning Eden.
This machine will drive on and on;
Whether or not you are on board;
Devastation is the only thing;
That it produces.
The destiny of our culture.
All creation shall perish;
The price of advancement;
This device will not fail;
Our vehicle for change.
A hunger fueled by lethal intentions;
Running rampant through our minds;
Thirsting for an absolute mastery;
The time will soon come when all will think like us.
Nothing shall pass 'til man has reached his mark;
No one shall rest 'til gods we all become.
Consume the fruit of the forbidden tree;
This world belongs to us;
None shall oppose us but must.
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