The song of DOOM sings and falls,
the cries collapse against these dreary halls;
as we are made to stand in this disaster,
wherein their hands close around our laughter;
so silence till comes the cry to rejoice,
silence till comes the melodic voice;
of sweet sweet justice placated in gold,
telling the tales our history foretold;
weaving webs around little tendrils of lies,
bringing thyself a target of thy despise;
creating a euphoria of absolutely mayhem,
wherein there will be no opportune to save thy maven.