Violating rhythms,
far beneath the dead waves.
See the shards of our culture,
Abandoned and arcane.
Our grave is the darkness.
Our own oblivion is like
the silence pregnant
with a labyrinth of tombs.
Like a Disharmonic rapture
from the forbidden archaic depths.
The cabbalistic scriptures
engraved with eternal life & death.
And the pantheons blind!
Tearing through the blackest of nights.
The ghost of humanity
haunts our ravaged tomb.
In this labyrinth of our doom.
We tear through the skies
with Hunger Eternal!
(With blood on the altar)
The pantheons becoming ravaged and blind.
Born of disharmonic sermons,
Phenomena from the deep
has been incubating.
Torn apart by
the psychoid phantoms,
emotional value splintering the mind...
In the sirene shadows veiled, a tomb,
The Symbols of our language
have become dead & dissonant.
Now an eternal force Awakens from sleep.
The ever-opening flower of doom.
As we smile & open the chasm,
The sleepless, ravenous void
from the vortex of poisonous coldness
Starving and blind, we are the storm.
The blind rage of our revolution
As we drown in these halls
The Blasphemous, fathomless
Manifesting evil within these walls.
(Where no dreams reach)
(Prismatic distortions)
Crowned with unimagined death
(Abysmal fevered seas)
Encircled, under siege
The black impious gulfs
(Culture of shapeless dreams)
Where no dreams reach
A