Epoch of Suffering Lyrics

This sublime firmament, our collective reality
The fruit of genocide, the slaughter of millions
By the providence of God
They too will fall to their knees, In supplication
Worshipful of the bloody-handed one
Whose religion so easily makes a poke about the neck
Instrument of destiny
Countless bodies a mulch for the ground
Upon which holy men may walk
No level of abasement
No degree of slaughter
May call into question
The divinity of this mission
When the angelic host did create this unspoiled verdure
For the refreshment of his chosen people
Why forever did they populate it
With vermin of sullied visage?
A matter of swift correction
Some will be forced into pens
The fortunate human cattle
Those who come after
By industrial conveyance
Are slowly bereft and gradually merged into a mass of human meat
Bones ground into a fine dust
By the weight of centuries
Aeons of suffering
The last will be denied even the meager inheritance of their kin
They will not survive what is to come
The end of all mercy upon the earth
At last