Feast of the Kroot 40k

Hak’tuun… kro’vak… sha’graa… Teeth in the dust, blood on the tongue [verse 1] Born from the jungle where the Shapers sing Flesh is our scripture, marrow our kings Spines in the fire, feathers in flame Every hunt whispers the old one’s name Sha’kra! Kro’tal! Vek’suun! Your death is our feast, your spirit our tune [chorus] Feast of the Kroot, we rise, we consume Bone for the pyre, flesh for the womb Echo the cries, the jungle replies Graaa’kth krooo’taaa! [verse 2] We eat your courage, we steal your form Every broken enemy makes the pack more strong Jungle remembers, shadows obey Hunter and hunted bleed into the fray (hak’tuun… kro’vak… sha’graa…) Blood in the leaves, the storm in our lungs Your end is written in a thousand tongues [chorus] Feast of the Kroot, sharpen the beaks Carve out tomorrow from the flesh of the weak Drums in the marrow, skies split in two Graaa’kth krooo’taaa! The pack devours you Feathered shadows fall… Your screams are a banquet hall… Sha'kuuun! Kro’tal! Graaakth!!! Bone dust rising… Feast never ending… Kroota… Kroota… Graaaaakth…