Two starving figures wither together to eternity
And the cross carries the weight of a gore nest of flesh and bones
Desolated landscapes of dried life burn with the memory of suicide and madness
When shall the angels come?
When shall the nightmares stop?
Creator! Of an aborted world of
Misery, Licking the wounds of Hephaestus
Ignite the expression of the horror in nature
Portray the screams of the faceless night
Agony
Landscapes of grief
Vultures shall come
Burn it down!
Disturbed by the mighty creation
That his own hand brought to this earth
The nightmares torture, the mind will conjure
The fire shall purge what God could not
Pyres shall rise
Madness will reign
Canvas of caos
Endless
Fall, Into, the ever mighty dark
The abyss of the master mind
Behold! The art! Of fear immaculate
Never ending path
The horror folding to your eyes
They stare, no eyes, he witnessed their demise
And painted with detail
The cursed existence of the damned
The death, decay, are tones in his palette
To bring! The hell! His nightmares finally manifest
Burn
