You will never know the meaning of your struggle,
Nor will you see the shackles of destiny.
You will never hear the malignant state of your being
Hysterically stripping off your forms down to the marrow.
You will never know why you have been carved in damnation,
Nor will you ever taste the promises of delirium.
Obscuring the strangled laments beyond the absolute crest of perdition.
Surrender your knees as the ground crumbles,
For what has been given shall be taken away.
The last hour of this deafened world echoes.
Witness the crowning splendor in the eyes of your lineage
Glistening through the sacrificial tempest of woe.
Singing the ultimate praises before lurking back to the vault.
The final discourse to a soon-to-be-forgotten audience
Will howl beyond the columns of raptured corpses.
Engulfed by a crimson sea of scorching waste
Coiling the fragments inside the open tomes of despair.
