---

In the sulfurous depths of Hell's own core,
The fallen legion's spirits roar.
Moloch's fury, fire-clad, demands war,
While Belial's whispers counsel peace
once more.

"Shall we rise or shall we bow?"
Mammon speaks of wealth, his solemn
vow.

In the infernal council, darkness reigns,
Plotting vengeance with celestial chains.
Beelzebub, with cunning, casts the die,
"Corrupt the seed of Man," his sly reply.

The gathering of despair, in shadows
cast,
Each demon's face, by hatred masked.
From the depths, a strategy is born,
To taint the Eden where man is sworn.

In this conclave of the doomed,

In the infernal council, darkness reigns,
Plotting vengeance with celestial chains.
Beelzebub, with cunning, casts the die,
Beelzebub's voice the plot entombed
"Corrupt the seed of Man," his sly reply.

Satan, ever proud, steps forth alone,
To breach the gates of a world unknown.
"Let me be the shadow in the garden's
heart,
To tear their souls and all their truths
apart."

The council's will, like iron, cold and clear,
The path of sin, adorned with human fear.
To the gates of Eden, with lies as his
guide,
Satan ventures forth, with darkness as
his bride.

Thus the fallen, in their dark accord,
Set forth the ruin of man's accord.
Through Hell's own gate, a new war
dawns,
As in the heart of Eden, the serpent
yawns

---

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