There I was, beckoned by the mountain Up the slopes and to the source I climbed I knew not in my mind but in my blood Mankind shall fall Into the wounds of the world The Earth shall claim it's own Without a tear And I shall watch mankind burn In the fire we fathered If I was told a tale in such pacifying prose I'd scream to the mountain for a tale more like my own For compassion shall be our undoing And weakness embraced our utmost defeat May we remember, disperse, and fall. In a world in which men Fear the kiss of death We welcome the cold lips of mortality Those of strength, of one blood Of supremacy Shall fear no end For it takes not time nor wisdom to realize But an ancient and primitive instinct An instinct possessed by both beast and man Of intolerant hatred Of might beyond pity Of compassionless life And the death of morality I write the epilogue