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And he who walks the chasms of the abyss
Is more likely to fall

As its cliffs are steep
And its pits are deep

From the most
Desolate place

The ominous walls are calling
The temple halls are screaming

The bell chimes
As they call forth

The eternal blackness
Home to their terrible father

Swimming on the currents of blackness
Feeding on the streams of unlight

In the eye of the storm
At the heart of darkness

Rooted in the sea of blood
Stand its infernal pillars

Servants clinging to the throne of their long dead masters

A circle of leeches with no
Host to feed on

Entangled by the rotting corpses
Of their dead offspring

Foaming at the mouth at the mere thought of self obtained purpose

They mutilated themselves

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