Taste of Fear

I truly love the taste of fear
that dances on my tongue,
as it provides a sense of awe
in crowds, I walk among.

The serpent's egg has hatched, and I'm
the asp who crawled away.
Although the future stings my eyes,
it's I who'll lead the way.

Mankind will be the first to go.
He has no will to think,
and I'll imbibe his panic as
he's standing on the brink.

Man thinks his cesspool's Eden, but
his garden's dead and gone.
My gift to him is anarchy,
and flames will be his dawn.