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