Narcissistic, Evangelstic

The stench of the dead lingers here
For the Reaper takes only the souls.
And he leaves with his bounty
before the bells of death toll.

Out on the battle field
They decay and they rot
For glory they fought.
Yet in the end they should have known
The worthless don't leave with the gold.

To the guns and the swords
And the mobs and the hoards,
Don't cry out God's name
When it's all in vain.

The petty, they weak,
They won't let us speak
For their God does not approve.
If only the closed-minded knew

Not the cloth nor the book
Keeps you out of Hell's grasp.
Killing in the name of God
Is not our task.

The innocent blood you spill,
That is not God's will!

Though they cry and they plead,
Get down on their knees,
Your eyes remain cold as stone.
Now I see you're just corrupted drones.

You cannot have God's blessing
With blood on your hands
Whatever happened to God's plan?
That part of him is in every man?

I cannot believe
How you love your conceit.
You say you never sin
Though you cheat and you win.

I pray your evil doesn't go unseen.
That you heathens will someday be cleaned.