Of Odes, and war cries

Death!

Show yourself loser,

Foul swine that we must trample underfoot!

Cowardly compost that you are...

Sneaking up on our society‘s best & brightest…

And slashing their pure souls with your diseased sickle

Enough is enough, fool!                                                 

This time, you scavenging jackal…

We shan‘t show any fear,  

No reluctant steps shall fall before our feet...

Hardened as stone, our hearts have become…

 By the brutish, insensitive tactics of your methods...

 No, we will not waylay you in corridors dark…

 Like you did our unfortunate fathers - and plan to do our seed…

We will not accord you the honour of surprise…

 No, we will meet you out in open field,

Armed with hands bare…

Hands immersed in the sacred blood of those you have stolen from us,

And we will pluck out your very innards with them…

 The day is near, fiend!

When the trumpet sounds, expect no mercy

When the fearless sons of our immortalised humanity descend

 To deliver annihilation upon your dark and abominable crypt!

 Damn you death!!