Vast and decayed, mourners of faded aspirations

Upon the colossal halls of rotten tragic shadows

Their inner essence and wisdom like a tornado over my torn spectrum

Will always be the bleeding eye

Dreadful visions of an impending fear

And unbroken cycle, purified with the stench of sadness

Which leads me to a crimson inmolation

Pain inmense and ritualistic

Lost years, faded illusions

Bleeding dreams, all in one

At war with myself at the empire of Msach-Eht