For blasphemy and sin to wake
The vengeful souls of mortals dead;
To perish all for one's mistake
And feel the wrath of serpent dread.

A priest, a soldier, in holy favor,
Though practiced too in the darkest art;
He served his lord with faith and valor,
But this deathly art did take his heart.

The means defend and serve he sought,
And this greatest strength he finally found;
But intentions pure were all for naught,
When this holy light he brought to ground.

For blasphemy and sin to wake
The vengeful souls of mortals dead;
To perish all for one's mistake
And feel the wrath of serpent dread.

As times grew dark and war grew near
He knew to fail he could not afford;
He embraced his deepest, greatest fear
And called to him this Serpent Lord.

To save his people, through faith and sin,
The fallen priest did life transcend;
But from death his god did rise again
And by it's wrath his world did end.

For blasphemy and sin to wake
The vengeful souls of mortals dead;
To perish all for one's mistake
And feed the wrath of serpent dread.