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1. Monarch Of Bloodshed And Eternal Victory (Solar Invictus)

Awaken, this sanguinary imperative
Blood boils over confining walls
For the Olympian Diathesis,
That which stands above all
Ordain the age of their suffering
Decimate their enfeebled kingdom
In vengeance rent upon the entrails
Torn of the obsolescent human faeces

Deities of vengeance
Bestow upon me your favor
That I might smite mine enemies whilst they sleep
Preserve the mighty, oh bringer of retribution
Crush those prostrate at my feet
May we the spiteful and our kingdom,
In purifying vengeance reign
I shall be as the incendiary
And consume in fire their remains

And now a internecine lineage
Is born unto this world
With hatred and contempt,
For this enfeebled world
With knotted club as sceptre,
And divine lightning at its grasp,
Resolute and statuesque
In immortal phallic might

Stout in virtue and defiance
Stands the stratum that bears its soul,
Spartan crushers of the yoke
Embody the dialectic that shall conquer all
One man shall fell one thousand
Under its mantle and its legacy
"Bring my enemies before me,
Vanquished shall they be"

All the old races lie dead and buried
Amid the Faustian ruins
Of the effeminate
All the old doctrines lie hollow and empty
In the twilight of the imperium
Of the decadent
Arise ascetic amidst the decay
As he who is still unfettered
Ordain the consummation in solar fire
Of the downtrodden infidel

All the old hierarchies lie ineffectual and useless
In the hedonistic weakness
Of the effeminate
All the old maxims lie lost and lowly
In the intoxicating senility
Of the decadent
Arise in conquest amidst the decline
As he who is the destroyer
Ordain the cull of the worthless dross
Sadistic victor

Consanguine catharsis of the feted, base and inane
Astride the throne in primacy
As Rome shall fall again
To be throned when empires sink
In storms of steel and flame
To be throned when weakling breeds
Are hunted down like game
To be throned in the eminence of sanguinary disarray
To reclaim the sceptre in hatred, in spite, in conquest

2. Conqueror Throned

Raise the standards of bloodshed
Ascend the throne in war
Cast out infidels as victor
Thresh the wheat from straw
Exterminate their meekness
Put weakness to the sword
Purify them in the flames
Of one hundred years of war
I am the uniting force,
I am the elitist spawn
Of the eternal holy war
To which all great men are sworn
The few who shall rend the earth as lightning,
And eclipse the heavens in our might
Grasp firm diadems
By totalitarian right

Wield the blood-stained sword of vengeance
Drench opposition in bloodshed
Their broken bodies shall form the path
On which we conquer on ahead
Crush the underman, utterly consume him with hate,
Main burn rend kill slay, impale, decimate
For when the world is again forged of be force
There shall be no pity, there shall be no remorse

I am the victor, the conquering one,
I am the redeemer as the lightning and the sun
The one man to reign of iron fist and will
The will to engender the instincts of our survival

The amoral urge and barbaric call
The iconoclastic spirit, the almighty master of all
The thunder of redemption,
The lion in the path,
The flames of Armageddon
And the conqueror's lance

3. Triumph Upon Equinox

Upon the altar of war
Scrolls and covenants sealed in blood
To offer unto
Upon the commemoration of harvest
To be combined with Antichrist
Upon the throne of might
All creator, all destroyer
In the coming dawn unite
The bearer of an iron fist beheld as divine
Coup de stellar echos, his ethos is mine
For what shall be of thy enfeebled man
When the time has come to bear the sword
In the eternity of this moment
We shall have the world in the sigil of the conquering ones
Hold high our goal
And heighten the will
The arms of the feeble shall bear us still
Through tears and suffering,
Until the dawn and the triumph of the will
In this battle I hold and raise high the impious sign
Now blood of triumph
Anointing supremacy
Conceiver and my own redeemer
Upon equinox I am these

4. Bloodforged Abdication

The insurrection shall now begin against the mass
The rabble to be graced with my spit,
The stones upon which I shall tread upon to reach my destiny
No longer shall I welter in sorrow
No longer shall weakness be sustained
Raise high the blood-drenched banners of war
Raise high the diadems of the conquerors of this world

Onwards march to victory
No longer shall destiny elude
No pity, no mercy
The weak trampled under cloven hoof
I am the weapon of bloodshed
I am the instrument of victory

And I shall not bow my head
And I shall not be conquered

For that of which I speak is already heard
And with the insurrection we shall bring an age
When the mightiest of beasts, the Man-God
Shall rightfully rule the world again
The human weakness shall be crushed
And warrior virtues upheld again
For it is deeds that shall smash empty words
And it is of wars that we shall create new worlds

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