Nostradamus prophecied my undoing
Yet by his deathly tongue was told my becoming

Far across the steppes of Nod
Shall I seek the necromancers rod

Sing my dirge, fear my rebirth
Hail the dead, with tainted mirth

Intent casts its shadow of dread
Because I know; disillusion will rule in my stead

My loved ones will suffer harrowing spite
Chaos and bloodshed will anoint me in my last rite

Beware the revenant,
Its power-mongering avarice
Salvation is irrelevant
When the damned hoist their malice

A once and future king
To hold the scepter and the ring

My brothers of three
Were lesser than me
One the Cannonmaster;
Crowned by disaster
Two the Purger;
Lightning urger

Three the Black Nimbus
Whom is yet to be
I am Mabus,
And your world belongs to me