Penance for this breath of black betrayal. Stoic, famished guard the walls of this scarlet temple. Awaits to hear the sound of armies marching underground and the screams of failures conquest. A wish to waste and rise alone with only the wolves i call my own.
A starving withered statue. Amidst the ruins you once knew.
Condemned to defend. The weakened flesh of this facade from all that breathes and lies within.
The vultures swarm and sharpen their talons. Upon wings of torment flying. Who is to say there is no art in dying.
A starving withered statue. Amidst the ruins you once knew. A shrine for the sick to gather.
From here to hell, from soulless to shattered. From soulless to shattered.
To destroy and conquer this failure with a will of sharpened razors. To forget what has been done. And all I have over come
Penance for this breath of black betrayal. Stoic, famished guards the walls of this scarlet temple. Awaits to hear the sound of armies marching underground. And the screams of failures conquest. Upon wings of torment flying.
Who is to say theres no art in dying.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
