You, creatures weak and enslaved, slaves of our satisfactions,
You probably hoped that your ridiculous adoring that you completely enjoy,
Angry about your shrines, our pride and our undribledness destroy them as soon as illusions satisfied sense.
Allure of imagination in that moment is turning into scorn followed with hate.
There's spice is dead, no one to say "Oh, Jesus, help me!"
Let your woman give her dark entrails, you and her naked body,
You will die, fort less, you whore.
So if you carry out and attack on us that will show your great pain.
Come here and leave your fear, pain into the red forests of Maglay.
I want that stupid creatures to finally know and to convince that the
Existence of God is immaturity.
It's a fairytale. Swindlers thought it up isn't it obvious?
An omnipotent God, why is he permitting all I do?
I'm the one weak person, like mouse against the elephant measuring
With his greatness, why is he permitting all that one weak person
Is profaning, provoking and defying him, us.
I do that all the time from evening till night.
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