Upon hooves,
Behold I, th' black banner...
The answer,
To your prayer.
Into this world, have I come,
To conquer.
This light, which none so dare,
With mortal hands---
Is the very harp of my dark art.
Shall ye guess my tune?...
Inverted prayer,
Thirteen thrones.. of ash.
Nothing can bind,
The spell that I wind..
Nothing can halt,
The Hail that I wield..
Blood is my wine,
Aloft, I raise my horn...
Mother, priest, and child... trampled, all!
---Aloft I raise my sword...
Father, son, and holy spire... ablaze!
---Aloft I raise my form......
'Twas ye, who kindled, in dark desire,
The black flame,
Which would... consume... this world...

by Vitholf of Fanisk

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