I see the burning,
I see the anger,
I see the squalor,
And I'm proud.

I see the death,
I see the destruction,
I see the sorrow,
And I'm its cause.

The hands of mine
I see as crimson,
Stained by the blood
Of my victims.

My clothes are perfumed
By that distinct smell
Of burned flesh.
And it tickles my nostrils.

I am a demon,
Instigator of hate, pain.
I am a demon,
And I am proud.