All the demons are here to taste your fear.

The tool of torment is a fa'rite game.

They'll wrap you in jewels or kiss you with fame.

You'll be a lovely pet that they keep near.

So you'll give and give 'til your life feels sheer.

They'll steal your language; you'll know not your name.

It will take and take then leave your life lame.

Then it will move on and shed not a tear.

Thus demons are dismembered when women war.

These are not gods; just merely ghoulish ghost.

We can see through to the very core.

Let us give them not what they feed on most.

Hence, mirror their minds; reflect their false face.

They live in lies and cannot taste the truth.

This is grueling, so keep a steady pace.

And remember to never be uncouth.

When women war demons disintegrate.

Let this prayer be our new and lasting state.