Walking trough a darkened place
Blinded eyes, a bleeding face
Feel the blood flowing among my feet
Smell the cursed, a torture death
Swimming in the lakes of filth
Violent, with infected mind
Feel the touch of dead cold flesh
Grips my body, stops my breath
Drowning in a sea of gore
At the bottom grow the thorns
Near the mass of the destroyed
I see myself, a rotting corpse.
In thousand mirrors of broken glass
My reflection is sign of death
In my prison beyond the depths
I see the blood smashing at the walls
I look at the hammer in my hand
See the ruined faces of them..
Who took me here to be a slave
In vomit and filth they slip away
Sitting on a rotting throne
Build by corpses, made of bones
I gaze in the darkness, get lost in the shadows. In the safety of madness, this room is my palace.
[Dit bericht is aangepast door Black_Blasphemy (09-02-2002).]
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