6 acessos
Dream on...
Dream on a new sensation far from this world...
Dream on a new life now close to death.
Drift your mind...
Drift your eyesight...
Joy for your doom, joy for your hideous doom.
Black roots of sickness evade from your mind.
Caught in the void of expiation lost in the gourge.
As your body lies still
the chill of abandonment cuts you.
Blinded by the smoke of fear all hopes are... bound.
Spiritus domini excubi nostras animas, ne umbrae
multa nocte poteant nostri potiri.
Mors nos comitatur, triste instat fatum.
Taenebrarum ombrae involvant nos
in gelido amplexu.
What is fate? What is the end?
A mournful life? A mournful lie?
Blinded by fear of by foul's desires.