: Wine is color of faded red, icon of a past No drug make me forget all this blood and this night Gazing at the cold moon, memory of a face of doom Which
: Deny the few that remain and send feeling to oblivion. The taste of survival has decayed to feel the touch of empty darkness. So, I'll never miss anyone
: Existence as a constant disease... Anything forthcoming is stained with the absorption of a new torment The time is running and I don't want to find
: Devastation over the world, bloodred sky burning the humans below. Survivors in rat's galleries raping the poisoned ground. No one know what to come
: You're all worms and mud, just a question of time Idealizing the past, old memory seems so beautiful But the decayed flowers have lost their colors
: Daemonius non magna celeritate procedit et belli itinera Molestos labores, magna pericula narrat. Inferi ira ductus. Quanquam clamores atris in silvis
: I survived time and death to meet you, to be sure you'll forget but, me, I didn't. You buried me too fast but here I am and guess who is here tonight
: I hate the way they move and exist but they're surrounding me. I cried for days because of you, I wish you all die soon. No mercy for humans. You all
: My shadows is creeping on the grey stones, Descending the stars of a forgotten castle. The years have past and war time is over. Are those steps going
: Plague times and wind of putrefaction Gutter belching rats by millions Brutal wave of squeaking vermin Babies devoured in their cradle Rats seemed
: I'm the grim apocalypse coming from far cosmic dimensions I perform through your world and the ways of destruction My appearance is the so called one
: We are the ones of no hope We are the ones without God No more reason to play as you lose every day No way to erase the past as now is already the
: None of their so called joy can't light my apathy Morbid desires of torture flash in my brain Wherever I go thoughts of violence prevail His voice
: I die from an alcoholic grief A nightmare if I dreamt When eternity opens There's no rest for the weak Flashes twist my dying shell I can avoid reality
: The desertic summer fades, the black curtains opens on a depressive autumn. The ground gave rotten fruits this season. The black wings of melancholy
: At the time of my human death Icy fingers grip my corpse Black shadows surround my shell Descending the smoky spiral to Hell Vertigo and visions of
: If these walls could speak, they would tell the weird story Of some secret cursed dynasties, witnesses of the time... And also crimes and blasphemies
