That cold that feeds my blood,
Beholding the dead fortress of conscience,
Hold my hand while I stop breathing the
My suffered corpse will hit the
Ground while you pray for my life.
I can live anywhere,
Once it be outside my
Yes! I belonged to the nightmare of existence,
Finally I've reached the rotting world of god,
I can't accept a god bigger
Feel the sun getting colder,
Awake the demons
You fed on your cries and laments.
Revelate them in a stream of
Memories will adorn your coffins,
An orgy of mass destruction
And unordered thoughts,
Mindless and violent
The seed of perseverance that dies in reverence.
Chaotic antithesis described in a book as salvation,
Denying the image
of a god
That no longer deserves being adored,
Sculptured in world that forgot to be buried.