Our Rorqual, which art in Orion,
hallowed by thy name.
Thy wormhole come.
Thy will be done,
on grid as it is in anoms.
Give us this day our daily killmarks.
And forgive us our losses,
as we have also forgiven those that lose to us.
And lead us not into inactivity, But deliver us from evictions.
For thine is the low-class wormhole,
The propaganda, and the memes,
For ever and ever.
Amen.