Wax that wane may be.

'Ere we left this wretched land, naught but the vile retained it's use.
Thought I then that I knew of villainy and wretched works.
Thought I then that what had crossed mine eyes was terrible.

Today I stand on once hallowed ground, torn in works most foul.
An affront to what existence means and all that makes life good,
was done in secrecy in this one time land of good and plenty.
There I weep for what that once was, all that was beauty and grace.
Twisted there, in terrible malice, lay what is and all it's black kind.
Took I there the weapon that I had once before claimed,
and thus reclaimed that which once was of my own flesh's claim.

On the morrow march we, those who stand of truth as was.
For this land doth mark our souls with sorrow;
such sorrow that seldom do we now sleep with grace in dreams.
Our mission as apparent be, to cleanse this world of such wretch things.
For this shall our daughters be taught to see,
the way that would lead unto such vileness and villainy.