Marching on the land of the enemy Extents paved with corpses Mirrors of their own fate Atmosphere of cadaverous smell Stench of rotten flesh sounds of the menacing abyss Scenery of scathing brutality Nothing left than the Souls of the damned
I found myself In this morgue of war Hidden in the ruins of Generations' passion To be witness Of the senseless butchery Dead soul staring Through the eyes of the dulled
Scarred brains getting numb Controlled by inferior circumstances Remnants of cruelty Enchroaching on the executioner
Not of their own will Not from inside Lacking in ideas Lapsed in outer reality Brutish deeds of satisfaction
Widow's juice before her Children's Eyes Woeful cries not to be heard To be lost in the everlasting wailing
Cold perspiration covering my skin I catch myself drifting further Thoughts of perversity capture me Spineless victim. Puppet without threads
Necrophiliac desires Primitive Human cravings Innmost nature of my race
Drifting further towards Demonic possession
Flight from my mind Mutated reasons of A once healthy system Defenceless. Shattered from inside