Sinister Omens.
The ocean runs blood
As our trees burn into the ground.
Evil is spiraling in gray clouds,
Starting the thundering of trumpets
In the city of the sky.

Nine levels are being climbed,
With fire and blood on their hands.
Plagues and curses
Were just the beginning.

As difficult as it is to say,
We are deserved of our sins,
People of the land.