Power of the Maul

A thunderous roar, crafted by demons in lava from the Styx.
A giant draws near. There’s no way to stop the sudden attack.
The arm of the wicked crushes hills with its merciless poundings.
Strength and dominion, harshness and power, destruction and death.
It’s the power. It’s the power of the Maul.
There’s no shelter that protects you from its blow.
It’s massive and grotesque, it’s cruel and mean, it’s ordered to kill.
War master of hell, obsessed by death. The weapon of triumph.
Apocalyptical fate. Angels' corruptor. The omen of assault.
It’s the earth’s demolition and the Heaven’s downfall. Satanic rebirth.
It’s the power. It’s the power of the Maul.
There’s no shelter that protects you from its blow.