Rotting, yet everlasting queen of the black arts:
Alluring, yet burning nauds you cast upon the filthy breed.
Oh, mother of malice, evil staves, corroding seed.
Queen Reaper, winding the scythe of anti-cosmos...

The skies shatter in your very frozed breath of eight.
The earth shakes and fall in your very gaze of ten.
Assiduous queen: spirit of legions and wrathful men.
You are flames, you are smoke, destruction in the eyes of the foe.

Terrible.

Immortal.