to you I now descend, oh you, deluded souls. and to purge your sorrow, you forlorn spirits, the curse I shall invoke the misanthropic curse, with its sordid, purple claws to carve your forehead, instead of cattlebrand with iron burnt in fire in vain will pride be seethed in veins dried up and scorched in death-swallowed eyeballs, on foreheads purple-hued by putrid blood that died what can I ever chose from your exhausted entity no fires free from dying, no undeceiving right oh, you dead men walking see, how urns now burst, the ashes resurrect alike the past, which murmurs with the battle-cry of the roman empire see the far-off shadows, they dress in steely armour and raise their noble foreheads that gone grey great traian and great cesar the rotten thrones are crumbling swept by tempests waters the rulers iron scepters, the heavy chain of slaves together are now crushed the gates of the inferno outrageously wide-opened engulfing now by thousands the filthy, depraved breaths of tyrants grim who perish oh, holy visionary minds, who set the stars to sing... who create another world on this realms of mud and grime fools and wise, young and old, sound, soul and light all is dust, the world's like this, and so we all are