A populace torn into factions, all fractured, broken and hewn
Numb and unaware of the infected, festering wounds
Maggots line the lips that spit those aspersions
Archdevils devise and conquer through fell shadows and coercion
The Jagged King presides over this chessboard
To the prosperous priests, he is lord
They must create this contagion for you
For the dark accolades they are due
Defiled corpses of commoners compose the tattered trail
Dark peddlers strive to sell the will to prevail
A coin for each contract, and a stitch for each soul
Threaded to a grin for the madmen to behold
Lies will soothe and feed this disease
Who could stand against a legion that dwells upon its knees
Flagellants lay sores upon the backs
Leeches feast upon the cracks
A plague of hatred and vehement pawns
They fight, while devils steal the dawn