The oppressor and destroyer
ravages the land in madness,
enslaving all who dwell within.
Billions of hands and feet
carry out its twisted will,
but it writhes now in agony.
Fewer and fewer hands
surrender to its chains.
Its enemies surround it.
The Tyrant sees slipping
its stolen throne.
The Tyrant god
is falling.
Rise up,
you who suffer long.
Rise
and be heard.
Let memory
refuse to let you go.
Rise up.
Rise up.
Rise up.
Holy Mother,
Dark Mother,
drawing us in,
into Your gaping maw.
Hear our cries.
Our suffering,
an offering
unto You,
whose hunger
is unending.
Holy Mother,
Dark Mother,
drawing us in,
into Your gaping maw.
Hear our agony.
You are the inevitable,
from whom there is no escaping.
Stir from your slumber;
stir you, O Wrathborn.
Be filled with Her Fury.
Rise to Her command.
Mother of the Void,
She calls out to you.
You will be Her hands.
You will be Her teeth.
You will devour
all her enemies.
Their lifeless bodies
shall be an offering.
In darkness creep,
unseen in shadow.
Be the terror
sent before Her.
Mother sends you forth.
Go; do not fail her.
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