Sons of Malice 40k

Beneath the blood red moons, we march through broken suns, Our banners torn, yet our creed still burns in tongues. In the ash of the galaxy, where gods claw for the last soul, We carve the eighth path no mercy, no control. Malal… Malal… we are his spite made flesh. [verse 1] From the fringe we rise, sons without a master, We scorn their thrones, their hollow crowns, their warp born pastors. Black armor dripping with the screams of the betrayed, Every oath a dagger, every prayer a blade. We are the flames that scorch the garden of rot. We are the waves that erode the mountain of skulls. We are the quakes that shatter the labyrinth of lies. We are the storms that rend the palace of perfection. We are Malice. [chorus] Hail the void, hail the wound, hail the god they cannot name, We walk the path where angels choke and demons bleed the same. No throne, no chains, no crown to bind our hate, In the name of Malice, we unmake their fate. [verse 2] We spit on the stars they claim to own, Tear the warp’s false light from bone, Hear the shriek of shattered idols fall, Every god a victim, every shrine a gall. This is the eighth, the lost, the cursed, the true, In chaos heart, we strike straight through. [chorus] Hail the void, hail the wound, hail the god they cannot name, We walk the path where angels choke and demons bleed the same. No throne, no chains, no crown to bind our hate, In the name of Malice, we unmake their fate. Malal… Malal… We are Malice.