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Şarkı

Pressure on the inner walls of my brain grows heavier. I must = alleviate the pain I feel, for soon many will die as they come = before me with effortless attempts. The search for divine power = beckons me and the only way to achieve is to destroy. Victims of a = torn society lay in waste, as I pick through the bloody carcasses. = Dead bodies just seem to fall before me. = Saving the most edible morsels, the weak ones scatter. With bloody = weapon in hand, I tear through the limbs. Cries of anguish filter = through the land, echoing in the valley. Many have tried to come = before me with effortless attempts. I sift my way through the fields = of dead bodies, stopping to take a trophy or two. = The fields run deep and far, for I have killed m any and I must = travel far to reach my destination. = My final resting place, where I will be reborn. For now, the air is = still, smell of dead bodies is ever so prevalent. I am the last and = here I shall remain. The pain I have once felt is lifted from my = being. Villages of useless waste, a race witch does not deserve to = live. I reek havoc amongst the children from a present with no = future, For I am the strong and those who defy me lay in waste. The days of = travel are long and the stench of how many I have killed lingers on. I am tired and need rest, but the forces pulls me to my = destination. =