If you have chosen the path to the throne

Undeterred by the terrible fate of your predecessors

I had to share some thoughts with you

My son you will, in my opinion, be strong enough

To break the curse of endless rituals

Self-sacrifice and immolation



You'll have to cleanse your soul

From the layers of moral putrefaction

That have accumulated through the ages

I hope you'll never share a table

With bastards of Babylonian whores devouring

The flesh of murdered gods

(And drink from holly chalices the wine of their blood)



To rule them you will need

To hone your words to razor sharpness

To purge your kingdom of the vice and heresy

Harrowing the soil with the plow of hatered

Forsaking weakness, mercy and regrets



The orb of divine warrior

Adorns your youthful head

In which the rage of gods will soon awaken

And Avel's spirit by your sword will dispense revenge



This is the way you have to be

To reach the throne that sits atop a heap

Of skulls and skeletons of the tomorrow's dead

Of scum and villains who are feasting at my table at this time of plague

(So let this throne should not be turned for thee to cross upon Golgotha)



I'm afraid

You are not destined to delight

Perfection of your reign

As you were dealt the fate of

Gladiator

(In arena where all your deeds will be accomplished by your sword



So brace yourself to reign in a dominion

That's like neglected garden is overgrown with weeds

Whose paths are covered in decaying leaves

Flanked by the lifeless tree stumps

That never will produce a seed or fruit



Upon the ruins of Pantheon which once was home

To living gods now dead, you must erec