The world rots in the flames of pestilence.
A simple summoned flame can consequence so many carcasses in sacrifice.
The bearer of a plague has fallen from above.
And he breathes a plague, a plague of fucking suffocation.
No one can intervene.
He breathes a horde, a horde of pestilential angels.
To advocate his disease.
And he talks the tongue of the devil.
No one will resist.
NO ONE!
Into the flames, into the sorcery, can you feel the feathered wings you once had rotting away.
In times of necromancy and black magic, an endless night has fallen.
And in this darkness an unspeakable POWER surges through the veins and the dismantled remains of a cadaverous mage.
His soul slowly begins to decay.
His body parts reanimate.
Heart pumping poison his corpse rises from its bloody grave, in a cloud of pollution.
Slowly crawling his dismembered anatomy affiliates, in a sea of poison.
Master in the art of death disease and decay he summons serpents by his side to revel in the destruction of an ancient world.
So lets spread this disease upon apocalyptic whispers that mortal minds will fail to comprehend.
Transparent chains bind mortals to the ground and in his poison they will drown.
This prophecy was foretold.
Implanted beneath what was once angelic flesh, now nothing but a putrid rotting mess.
A plague contracted from a horde of damnation.
The hourglass is almost empty for this world, the reaper’s song is spawned from hell to gather the corpses.
This undead wizard levitates, breathing a plague of suffocation he will rise and preach his word:
"Drown in this plague!" x2
Can you see the flames burning on the horizon?
Mankind lay in ruin as the last of their kind gather to make one last dying stand.
As they approach him weapons rust and skin rots away.
Decaying in their bravery, defiantly they crawl towards him.
With a demonic voice eating at their thoughts:
"You cannot stop this plague, it is our destiny!" x2
"OUR DESTINY!"
Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa. |
|
