Built on the backs of slaves.
A freshly conquered planet.
The Word Bearers came in few.
Their sheer might, and Daemonic mastery
destroying all in their way.
The unlucky living, Chained in pairs.
They push the brick of what was their home.

Down on their knees, their lives a waste.
Spreading the dead, the blood mortar.
Warm, and thick,
The power coursing through the channels.
The warp seeping in.
Strengthening slowly,
destroying minds.

The insanity of men, building their graves,
using other men, to make it.
They become, another man’s grave.
The living spire.
It talks to the men. It gives them will.
Infused with the warp.

The power is drawn From chaos realm.
Feeding its life, to bring on death.
The power strengthens.
The planet quakes,
and destroys civilisation.
Daemons freed, they rule the world.
Given their life to bring forth
Armageddon

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