Will your decease to me finding another world to fight its plain, making ferocious game
We were resemble to rank
Are we the essence of nothing but regrets?
Provoking leaders to alight, the most ached thrones that were born from woe as their oration was the most sacrosanct sacrament.
As the moon came upon the sky, gold have been poured and surrounded them
Pieces of moon fall into ocean
Compassion was imitated.
Cross suffocates our religion, coming from chaos as a beast
feeding us with an artificial mercy
Our desires were nothing in compare
in compare to his megrims
Resist religion we don’t belong
One God they profess in human form sacrament!


Our realm is about to die for nothing. Cross was the omen of unspoken evil, the legend of madness – the legend of woe


Human genuine Madnecessity

Reborn
Curse has supervened, eyeless adulteresses rise unnamed life, and the life
expire with first ultimate groan on lips that no one listen but hear

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