The smell of your putrefying limbs
Is nothing compared to the stench of your soul
Surrender to your instincts; breathe in
Fill your rotten lungs with poisoned air

Suspended in limbo until comes
Deliverance in the form of a judgment
Your pathetic existence has been decided
With utmost care though great disgust

Omniscient arbitrators
There we stand pondering
The waste of air and time
That for us all your life has been

Face the extent of your uselessness
The whole of yourself amounts to nothing
Opere et omissione

Dreams unfulfilled and deeds undone
Will be the cement to seal your grave
Opere et omissione

Weakling your desires are irrelevant I fear:
The time has come

Upon deaf ears fall
Your pleas for absolution
Your crimes request
Your soul as reparation

Upon deaf ears fall
Your pleas for absolution
Your crimes request
Your soul as reparation

We hear but what are these deeds?
We cannot even retrace your steps
We see but where are these works?
That should withstand rain and winds

Upon deaf ears fall
Your pleas for absolution
Your crimes request
Your soul as reparation

We see but where are your works?
We hear but what are your deeds?

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