Wings of Wrath
On the Wings of Wrath
he shot up
From out the musty
depths of Hell
And straight into the
hearts of men
He lodged himself to
make his Home
Do I know you, O
mirror-Self?
Which hearth which
nativity speak you of?
I am a Stranger unto
you
Come draw your sword
And defend yourself
Or else, I will
impale you
For I am the Lord of
the legions of Hell
Come overground to
reclaim my fiefdom
From the Tyranny of
Oppressive Truth
