Falling from the sky are many dead things I have once known and will not grieve for.
They will continue to suffocate and drop downwards from the black clouds.

Into molten oceans these dead things are digested by the infernl corpses of that which has fallen before.
These dead things now become one with the balancing pools and streams aflame.

Rotten rain; spilling like buckets of disease created for the testing of wills and
Strengthening of courage now burning away and flowing in the seas of consuming fire.

I bid these dead things fare-ill and though I am thankful for the lessons learned,
No thanks goes to these dead things that I kick from upon my ashen clouds to drown.

I hiss at the purifying abyss, yet marvel at how these dead things have now become the molten pools,
Which show me freedom by destroying more, and more of these dead things.