My duty is to harvest The dead must be taken
I offer no kindness
No polite salaam
No generous warning
Because I am Abbadon
The end is now
I am death itself
I am the hand
of God
The crops of spring
Will be burned and blackened
The cities of ancient rise
Will be flattened
I am called by the one
To be his hand of death
And I fall upon the world
In the form of a dragon
My fire will burn
The world conquered
Will be better
For my actions
For I act
With the sanction
Of almighty God
I am Abbadon
I am not an angel
I am one with a duty
To take you
From this world
And bring you
To the next
From one of beauty
To one of cruelty
And you are responsible
For your placement
