Banners of Blood

Upon the mountain the dismal tyrant stands
Lies in his eyes, stone tablets in hands
Ignorant slaves in numbers flock his call
They worship in vain their prophet shall fall
Across many lands the slaves they dwell
Ensnared by the tyrant’s false-hearted spell
Doing his bidding without question or thought
So the prophet’s reign of slander is wrought
Raise the banners of blood
Fly the flags of hate
Behind the banners we ride
The tyrant-prophet we shall fight
Across deserts and mountains and over the seas
Everywhere nothing but ancient lies sound
Cultures are crushed by the laws of the lie
Once noble tribes now shackled and bound
For centuries the rule of the prophet endures
Bleak oppression the dread fate of the world
All are powerless against the tyrant’s rule
Until the holy banners of blood are unfurled