The filthy flour is milled bitterly
down among the Aesir-betraying scum
Blood-letted, wronged, all that is foul!
Truth forgotten, all high forced to dream!
Imitate not the dead eternelles, you sorrowseeds!
Raise not your tearfilled voices to a false comfort
around those soiled words of impermanence
Quelled spikes shall die! DIE! DIE! DIE!
Lowest are brought here through the entrapments,
and when Good intentions is missing; will flicker dead,
parasites impose themselves not trustworthy symbioses,
excruciating, in denial of Holy Knowledge with an empty spite
We all participate in this Fated battleground
The War continues for Odmade against doomed
Condemned breathe; but have nothing for it
Condemned die, for their will does it
OWNERSHIP IS NOTHING YOU CAN HAVE
MIGHT STAND YOU NOT TO FIND HERE
COME NEAR THE NEW TIMES REAL DEMANDS
MEET A WORLD WHERE ALL CHOSEN IS KEPT
GROWTH OR BE DAMNED IS THE CHOICE LEFT,
AS WE ALL KNOW THAT RAGNAROK IS NEAR