Death Immaculate

Enthral

Compositor: Não Disponível

O fathers of the wildest nightmares that are soon to pour like the darkest rain all around this
servant
Who stained his credibility by the bloody deed to feed only the hunger of one
And who therefore stole from the tree that bare the
Fruits and truths that were meant to feed the needs of many
Take from me now, what you see as wrong but don't leave!

The contours of the light that once shone all around you
I cannot see anymore, I hunger for death immaculate

You may believe that you rule me, but wham are you to say that by the amount of rewards
I have earned on this earth, you are given the first of nights and might to judge me?

For the treat called sympathy, do not speak to me, for of her dignity I have seen none!
But if such a blessing may be given. And for all of her worth, then let me have some!

Lend me now, a beggar soon to come, a penny
To quench his thirst for life, or at least a tiny fraction of what you so proudly speak of to be
your mercy!

Or am I for all the regrets you are meant to forget?
From the corned I am trapped in, it has never shone so clear to light that you were, it did never
touch me!

My soul, to be a hell for eternal prayers of dying
Yes, for I am destined to become an outcast
The soothing saviour for all kith and kin
To lay their plagues and feverish guilt next to

My body, to be the deepest of graves for all living to fall into
An earthy abyss for all harlots, and their likes to copulate
And with me they shall fester in the grime and gutter
And give praise and warning to what still is unseen

Our pipes to sing our sin called sympathy
In harmony to celebrate to dying of vitality
And to become the manifestation of all
Haunting visions of earlier agening forever

We are the performers of the same play
An death over and over again
Every time the curtain is lifted
We reach nearer towards the end
So it has been, and so it shall be for all eternity

Most humble, and thankful, I have served but by this
I have learned, I was strapped to the plaugh
And the irony of the reward I had yet to achieve
Was to be mowed down by the scythe!
Now I see; the knife I hold is not meant for me
The damage you tried to escape wasd already done!

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