Floating in this strange mood, I can feel the return, the coming, the Desert, withthe sun as my witness,
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but Blackened, in desolate ways we are wandering, Bleeding...
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These geometric agony that I have stand for all this centuries, expecting the arrival of the old rider,
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The Master of Mourn...Scream over the Dream's remains,
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I must find the root of my Damnation in every drop of the torid seas of Sin and in every night of Soulless winds,
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Bathe in restless Flames, Crush and Slaughter the False ones...
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My prophecy of revenge and destruction, Is rising from my burning chest.
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-----------------
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Channeling The Bleeding Over The Dream'S Remains
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| The Chasm |
