| Purified |
|---|
| Can the pestilence within you be bled out |
| May I have the honor of this amputation? |
| Know that you have made an enemy |
| To show you the meaning of indignity |
| I live no solely for the pleasure of your slow decay. |
| Feel the pain of vengeance burn you, |
| Soon you shall know silence. |
| With trembling hands you’ll beg for mercy. |
| I’ll show you none. |
| Purified by my hand |
| In this my world |
| It is salvation. |
| Your futile existence draws to a close |
| A cloak of lies drops. |
| The lies drop. |
