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		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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