---

The crevasses are reflected in my veins.
My dishonorable end is coming closer.
The dementia on these walls drills all my sense.
Thoughts of rage burn my tormented head, it's over.

Slaughter of insane.
It's my fall.
When the mist drowned my eyes deep into sin.
Slaughter of insane.
It's my fall.
My darkest hour came to burn my open wings.

All the chosen ones are coming back to life.
As the days go by I'm becoming a haggard.
Dazing lights in the depth cause my inner strife.
My fear of the threshold tears my freedom apart.

Thou might tell insane from right,
thou'll condemn the paths of fright.
To loathe the contrite thou'll learn,
the upright side of bright to yearn.

Thou shall be the damned who asures
it's their shame thy shade obscures.
Thy dementia anxiously feed
for fair's sake
and fairly bleed.

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