I know I am the rough tool of your design
But I chewed through the cords that bind
I shall be worshiped for I am the new shrine
You and yours shall be made deaf and blind
My soul cold within this old husk of a body
Shall be warmed by the blood of man
As for your memories I shall disembody
And feed them to my ravenous Klan
The false ones are lost in a life sinfully led
I left the throne in a trail of blazing glory
They have to die before they are bled
Bathing in their iniquity I shall be named gory
An excerpt from the journal of Amulek
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