Some unwelcoming spell depresses the place. A look into the mirror, I see the devil incarnate. Some misanthrophist in my direction
In my deserted interior is a world Of misty windswept moorlands.
Full of thoughts, rising against the dark I am the only one, who non omnis moritar I am the evil one, who non omnis moritar Non omnis moritar, Death has many faces. Non omnis moritar I am each face of it.
