Befouled swine fill a narrow musty drift, leading deeper into earth drenched with death.
Flocks of carrion, fat and foul - dispose of the dead, obey the mort. Machinations falling in place. Closer to my purpose…
His heartbeat rumbles through stone and moss, cascading fear upon my regiment. He can see through our eyes, yet he will not see his demise.
An ophidian god, it’s blood the cure for death. One single drought from it’s veins bestows immortal breath.
Descend into the mouth of hell as one. Granite turns to onyx, darker than a lifeless star. The air is dense with sulphur. The walls they pulse with life, an unknown blight stricken by darkness. We wield thy kin as trophies to put fear in his heart - for it will be removed. Enter his lair. Cadavers decorate his vault - trophies of his own. A hideous roar brings down earth and stone. Crushed and added to his collection. A feverish nightmare cast in shadow. Eyes glow with corruption. Look into our minds. Reflections of scorn. Lurking beneath the earth, buried within these walls - Confined and forgotten.
An ophidian god, it’s blood the cure for death. One single drought from it’s veins bestows immortal breath.
Descend into the mouth of hell as one. Granite turns to onyx, darker than a lifeless star. The air is dense with sulphur. The walls they pulse with life, an unknown blight stricken by darkness. We wield thy kin as trophies to put fear in his heart - for it will be removed. Yet he will not see his demise.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
