The Measure of Man
The hounds at the door, the darkness of the night. That which drives chills in child’s bones and destroys the hope of men. Those fallen to sensation, desire, and chaos. Each fed The Wretched and in turn are consumed.
Heedless passion, burning insatiable desire. The Lech takes, uses and tosses aside. Wanton desire burns in the heart of the Lech
All consuming, All destroying, Never ceasing, Ever ravaging. The Void desires nothing to be all
Whats mine is mine and yours is mine and theirs will soon be mine as well. Thus The Vastness grows.
Let all come to naught, let the strength of men all. Joy grows in those who thirst for The Waste of all.
The hands of hate, the hunger for blood within and without. Those that feed The Wrath are themselves consumed.
Cast down joy, lest those never feel. Destroy love, lest those never hunger. All must dwell in The Sorrow, lest never feel the pain.
Some are destined to rule, some destined to serve. All are mine by right and beneath the will of The Master.