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