Marked for death and horribly maimed

I've suffered its pains

Yet rightwise claimed

This holy throne atop the erthe

All shall witness a new god's birth

Blasphemer

Deceiver

A perfect fool

I shall nobly rule

Whose lies entrance

This northern expanse

Believe

This holy land belongs to me

The crown of kings upon my head

Proclaims my royalty

Accept my gift

And grovel at my knees

Arise

Monuments to my reign

One thousand years of faceless gods

Replaced by fire and steel

Consume

And let our might be known

The feeble kings of erthe and axen

Are but flesh and bone

Man

Who is erthwile born

Who longs

Who tries

Who is

Full of strife

How frail is life

And mine is but a breath

A hopeless thought

Who is empty

Faithless

Embittered

And capable of anything

Inconquerable

Yet full of woe

So I extend my reach

Upon riches

Unfit for unseen gods

And disperse them to my sons

My body is covered with maggots and scabs

My skin

Is faded

Cracked and dry

And still they proclaim

Blasphemer

Deceiver

A thief they say

But I have suffered

And I have paid

All this was

Long ago

Reap what you sew：

Erthe and axen

Flesh and bone

Marked for death

No sense but a pulse

Neath my fading breath

I'll bear the weight

Chains of my past so full of hate

King of erthe

How frail is life

Dust and ash

How full of strife

Like aeons past

And when I die

Your disease shall never last

Never again shall I arise

All this was

A thief they say

Long ago

To dead gods they pray

Reap what you sew

I have suffered

Erthe and axen

Flesh and bone

I have paid