From the south, a voice claims:
Do not call me to teach you my rules, I warn you.
Do not come asking for advice, to use it wrong and waste it.
Don’t you ever deny my hand that is raised when proclaim my designs.
Worst of all is the dirty unfaithful who I despise my name.
Who uses anodically my words, and denies that he belongs to me.
He has split the nobility of my teaching and in my name intends to provoke fear.
Rather than pride themselves to sing my verb, they refuse at its owns.
Worthless one for wasting the strength of my gifts.
I have filled your large stomach, why then you deny have eaten from my hand?
Ungrateful are those wich acts using my virtue and claims as its own.
Protect yourself now in the shadows plagiarist of the verb.
Take care of your treasures, because all you got for me and you banish all without mercy.
My blood is the big life trophy and your tame elixir only create stunning.
I was with the one they call the great prophet.
And I taught him to dominate nations and to create herds.
I hold the hand that wielded the sword to rule the world and create chaos.
I have been before time.
I am the giver and the taker.


