I am Destroyer of the World,
I am the Death itself, behold
My deeds and dread ye, common mortals,
While looking at you all I chortle
In disdain, contempt and scorn
And with the teeth of ye adorn
my bloody-crimson garment I
While to your children lullaby
You, Mother, sing
to lull them to their sleep
At night, o night, o night the very last,
And matters not how hard you grasp
The last of threads of the world’s canvas,
But End is nigh of yours, alas;
So clench your hands in your last prayer
As fractures of the world last layer