The frothy sea does churn,
when beastly hearts do burn
with wicked words as unsheathed swords,
the foolish heart to turn.
Lament for sins abound,
those hidden now resound.
What back is black to turn the tack
and white is turned around.
Cloaked danger clouds our fate,
and armed with cruel hate,
some spirit slithers its good seduction
to remake men and state.
When totem kingdoms fall,
that stone will strike them all.
What reign does rise, come from the skies,
the judgement not forestall.