Pressure on the inner walls of my brain grows heavier. I must
alleviate the pain I feel, for soon many will die as [bad word] 
before me with effortless attempts. The search for divine power
beckons me and the only way to achieve is to destroy. Victims of a
torn society lay in waste, as I pick through the bloody carcasses.
Dead bodies just seem to fall before me.

Saving the most edible morsels, the weak ones scatter. With bloody
weapon in hand, I tear through the limbs. Cries of anguish filter
through the land, echoing in the valley. Many have tried [bad word] 
before me with effortless attempts. I sift my way through the fields
of dead bodies, stopping to take a trophy or two.

The [bad word] deep and far, for I have killed many and I must
travel far to reach my destination.

My final resting place, where I will be reborn. For now, the air is
still, smell of dead bodies is ever so prevalent. I am the last and
here I shall remain. The pain I have once felt is lifted from my
being. Villages of useless waste, a race witch does not deserve to
live. I reek havoc amongst the children from a present with no
future,

For I am the strong and those who defy me lay in waste. The days of
travel are long and the stench of how many I have killed lingers on.

I am tired and need rest, but the forces pulls me to my
destination.