They will kill children if it suits them.
Mothers, fathers and brothers too.
They will hide behind their gold-encrusted palaces
As the children gasp for air, for life itself.
And they will sneer at the words of justice
Which threaten their evil lust.
They will shop in the streets of London and New York
As servants bow and scrape.
And mark my words they will fall and burn in my time
And be flushed away by those they would rape.
For just as the ways of any godless world are theirs,
So are mine.
And they will know justice in my time.
How a bullet feels.
How terror is the only partner towards
The shores of timeless godless eternity.
How useless are their towers of gold and marble
And friends in power.
For they shall perish too.
Hung drawn quartered and flushed from history.
Like the scum they are.
Because it is right.