Like thunder and explosion from nowhere, breaking the walls A voice is howling in the fresh ruins Scary words of the one who executed babies in Egypt Are pronounced by the demon of waste, the servant of death:
“Stop! The oracle’s message is false The treasure that is being predicted to you doesn’t exist It’s only sorrow and weeping you will hear Sitting in palaces you will tremble from the steps of the crowd of fathers and sons The star of death will never light up, because it is fiction There is only Messiah’s chariot and it will rush to the suffering As for your ancient enemy it is an observer of the power of light The one who employed the foreteller to involve you into the trap of those who love humanity The one who won’t accept forgiveness and will fulfil the Father’s will in silence It’s not the war that is cursed but immortality that only those will get who deserve it”
And having said that he squeezed the bones of the old oracle He begged for mercy in his last breath But demon sped away, bringing him to the Last Judgment The sentence echoed in the air:
“For falsification of the prophecy you are sentenced To damnation of eternity. To madness and service to hell The blindness will be your mother, soot and ulcers will be your father Your voice will be mine till the end of time And your hands will obey only my will”