The Beginning of the End

Come, my Child, for We are coming We come to wake you from your fetal sleep you shall send the foolish weaklings running for in a world of death your soul will steep it's time, my son, to kill the joy, for comfort shall be never yours the lives of foolish fiends destroy upon the burning shores the time has come, you will arrive you'll bring your fatal air and strive to decimate the fiendish men and say the sword is greater than the pen. when you are dying, know that you are born.