Rotting, yet everlasting Queen of the black arts:
Alluring, yet burning nauds you cast upon the filthy breed.
Oh, mother of malice, evil staves, corroding seed.
Queen reaper, winding the scythe of anti-cosmos.
The skies shatter in your very frozen breath of eight.
The earth shakes and fall in your very gaze of ten.
Assiduous queen: spirit of legions and wrathful men.
You are flames, you are smoke, destruction in the eyes of the foe.
Terrible...
Immortal...
