My hands are bound behind my back,
While this cloth keeps me blind,
I hear the screams of a man next to me so I know I'm next in line
One by one they chose a form of death.
While mine came from a blade
The rodents, the peasants, and the bastards alike were slaughtered while their corpses suffered mutilation.

There is no justification for my ruthless decapitation
There is no justification
For man believes what he cannot see and will spill his blood for thee.

Death is coming, for this I know,
The stench of rotting bodies rises from below
I can't see the light while gasping for air,
When I'm dead I'll ask him why he wasn't there
With each inch cut in my throat
I didn't feel a presence of a might deity.
Though years of practice taught me that I would see him when my time would come

The deception is a perception because of our different beliefs.

A lineage of filth is what they call the bottom feeders for they do not know right from wrong.

I tried to follow the best that I could.
The result ended in my gruesome decapitation
I was still conscious and in those final seconds
I condemned the almighty and lost my faith.