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