The Gift Of The Furnace

Spare the bloodbaths
Spoil the vermin

Bloodwolf incarnate
Has his shadows against the sky
His empire is one of faces
Where all hope dies

A decision is hammered out
And calls for special handlers
The ultimate reckoning:
Administrative dissolution

There is always more unsettlement
For more and more will come
Like a procession of mourners
Grieving over themselves
Still more will come
As part of the greater sorrow
Welcomed by gray angels
Of extermination

We hunted them like dogs
Dogs whose master is hate
With our friends night and fog
To help us annihilate them
(For) hate restores black violence
To its rightful place:
Directed at the mongrels
Whose crime is on their faces

Living spaces piled
With the scabrous, the dying;
It’s time they received
The gift of the furnace

One doesn’t get
To watch people burn
As often in life
As one might like to

Because humans burn
Like nothing else:
This fact alone
Makes it all worth it

They cry as they tell
(Their) tales of torment in filth;
When will they learn
That hate spares no one?

The exalted flame
Never in quiet repose
Returns with the cross
And his gray eminence

A life so long spent
In the company of death
In the warbringer’s wake
Where hate spares no one