Wretched Sons
Diocletian
Know this wretched sons of man
Born in the time of everlasting fire
Your holy father a billion years gone
Unaware of your punitive existence
Unconcerned with your dismal fate
Incapable of answering your feeble prayers
Black priests of inevitable doom
The harbingers of inescapable ruin
Pathetic faith in miserable gods
Reveals the spirit of these wretched men
The myth of destiny perished
With self determination
No afterlife no world without end
There is no good news for men
Behold the grand finality
Of all the common man holds so dear
Not just yourselves but your legacy of progress
Aghast at the truth of death
You’ll surrender
Lay down your weapons
And submit to the black
The spirit of man
Is already dead