Rage Nucleaire 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
