Tainted Hand
Dissident Saint
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Tainted Hand
Knee deep in blood I find myself the victor of blood thirsty wars
Forever more tainted shall be my hand that slayed without remorse
So here I am towering above the cultures scattered at my feet
And I smell nothing but the smoke of fires lit up by my torch
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Have I done this for some lost cause were wounds inflicted by mistake?
In my relentless path to win I have brought ruin unto my prize
Worse yet my hand cannot be stopped, the cultures scattered at my feet
Erasing histories, my sight of life enforced on all