To the God of Perhaps-Not-So-Righteous Vengeance:
I pray for the land beneath their feet to turn to sulfur and taint.
I pray for the air they breath to turn to utter pestilence.
May fire scald and mar their licentious forms.
May water run red with their wicked blood.
My remaining humanity indicts them.
My dark heart condemns them.
This grey soul begs one wish,
ere it dies, vain and empty.