Incultus

Cursed be thy name

The outcast one; companionless.

Who by his will betrayed

His beautiful creation.

It is unspoken

And he is resolute

He is broken

He will not say

If he's the enemy

He is no one

His mind will rot

And crows will tear his flesh

Live long, feel naught

When given life

He found a way to die

He is no one

So here's your land;

This Barren Erthe.

Both thorn and thistle

shall it grow for you.

And though you'll eat of it,

It never satisfies.

And you will curse its name!

Incultus!