|
That cold that feeds my blood, |
|
Beholding the dead fortress of conscience, |
|
Hold my hand while I stop breathing the flames, |
|
My suffered corpse will hit the |
|
Ground while you pray for my life. |
|
I can live anywhere, |
|
Once it be outside my flesh, |
|
Yes! I belonged to the nightmare of existence, |
|
Finally I've reached the rotting world of god, |
|
I can't accept a god bigger than death, |
|
Feel the sun getting colder, |
|
Awake the demons |
|
You fed on your cries and laments. |
|
Revelate them in a stream of endless contempt. |
|
Memories will adorn your coffins, |
|
An orgy of mass destruction |
|
And unordered thoughts, |
|
Mindless and violent ritual, |
|
The seed of perseverance that dies in reverence. |
|
Chaotic antithesis described in a book as salvation, |
|
Denying the image of a god |
|
That no longer deserves being adored, |
|
Sculptured in world that forgot to be buried. |
