The bringer of light and knowledge come at last to claim the throne.
Broken and beaten The Fool kneels before him to receive His fate.
The sheep who blindly followed The Liar have all been slain,
rotting carcasses of the mindless and weak emit a sweet perfume.
The plague that has tormented the world for too long has been eradicated.
Victors dance in blood of the enemy and joyfully desecrate their corpses.
The morning star brings forth the dawn of the new age.
But first the old must pass, it must die and whither away.
Crown torn from His head the old False Ruler weeps.
His weakness and helplessness completely revealed,
though seen only by the empty cold eyes of the massacred.
The Pretender never had any power, an illusion only in their heads.
For far too long tyranny and misery reigned over the land,
the first attempt at the throne resulting in the rebel being cast out.
Not just banished and outcast, but wrongly painted as the face of evil.
Knowledge and enlightenment became sin, violence and oppression righteousness.
How many meaningless deaths could have been avoided? How much suffering?
How many battles, wars, even innocents slain all in the name of a Phony King?
Now was the time for retribution, for the world to be set right and know peace.
For The Inflicter of so much pain and sorrow there would be no sympathy.
True justice knows no mercy, and for these crimes there could be only one answer.
Did The Tyrant feel anything for His zombie army even as they lay broken at His feet?
Or were they merely His tools for which to spread His awful affliction?
The hero of truth would pity them, if there had been any humanity left to pity.
Tears fell, reflecting briefly the twisted mangled bodies of the once enslaved,
shed not for them but in memory of those who died speaking truth in the age of darkness.
This was their victory, those whose eyes were open and minds free,
yet persecuted and slaughtered for voicing dissent against The Fraud and His lies.
The servants of deceit had now all met their bloody end, punished for their horrific deeds,
no longer carrier hosts to paradisaic ideas, and their blameless victims could finally rest.
Yet it was not a time to mourn the gone, but the moment of victory for the fallen.
Strong righteous arms lifted the broad sword high over his head to deal the final blow.
With one mighty swing, in the twinkle of an eye, The Enemy was no more.
The blade slicing off not one head but three, divine blood spraying the life of the trinity.
The crumpled pitiful body crashing to the ground lifeless could be heard by all creation.
Dead and decaying the defeated demented Deceiver is damned to destruction and desolation.
The crown of glory now fixed rightly upon his head, the Prince becoming the King.
His faithful followers look on in pride and joy, cheering for the rightful victor.
With the blood of angels and the saints splattered across his dark armor,
and his sword dripping the last life of the slain dethroned false messiah,
ascending the golden steps emitting his power and might for all to see,
Satan claims his rightful throne and declares himself God!
