In its corridors, an axiomatic statuette about the death receives you The smile of death becomes itself the door of the final revelation Only way for rest of this meaningless life No god remains here Faith does not enter in the abode of the dead Congregation of skulls chant the words of invocation Putrid xenoglossy emanating from the disembodied Hypnotized dialect comes from the mouths devoid of tongues The song sung by the abyss, with the gaping maw that waits in eager The residence of the dead keeps the gateway between the worlds Where the tentacles of the abyssal timeless realities Float on the surface sea from hidden knowledge Contemplate the death The unpalatable abyss that reflects itself I was reborn naked flesh, and realized I am a member of the temple of bones and gods will not lacerate my corpse, I am an ungod digging my fate in the soil of words Why Does It Never dies on the sun? Whisper the following words of phantoms of my nightmares Destroyers for the black pit, Created a subrace worship creatures of stone Sons of an idol that died to be adored So many pathways to be followed and only one destination, the grave Never ask a death, where lives their bones Words drowned in the river of memory Tell us, why the evidence of my existence causes pain?
Gloss: "All beings have their place of rest and reflection that conventionally termed them as ‘home’. With DEATH would be no different .There, in the residence of the dead, the rotten xenoglossy hypnotizes and merges with the void left by the absence of god."Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
