Projectile, like a hairspring
Needle born blood pack
Rise from the sufficient maligns
To further the cause for the unborn
Breach back, a spear of hate transforms
Into a queen with the head of a boar
The city's walls becomes my tomb
Fill your throat up with salt
Cut your legions of fire back to the
Blood soaked wall of east
Suffer
A knot inside the unborn opens it's pale eye
Pale horse
Pale mind