Fruitful is the surface in which Devastation Grows, upon the earth Cataclysmic Events, the violent end The forsaken lands drenched with the stench of Death
I've foreseen the human race enslaved by the chains of prosperity, Accomplishing nothing Digging their graves, humanity was cleansed by an imminent disaster invoking the end.
It begins with the survival of my soul, Everything I know is deceased, abandoned and out of control We bathe in Frailty Reliant on a system that destroyed humanity
A new age, liberated by failures. Surrounded by the ashes of defeatists. The Pillars dropped, to ignite our sins. Erasing everything, inducing stagnancy. Unable to define what is reality, slipping off the edge of sanity.
As I stare into the abyss, the abyss stares back into me. Welcoming my being with it's lustful embrace.
Alone I walk towards the darkness, engulfing light in the thickness of hatred. Broken and seeking salvation, on a land burned from the misery of man.
Corpses pave the burning lands, statues of ignorant mistakes. A journey so ubiquitous, holds the answer to my survival.
In the land of the brave, paradise fails to sustain life. Venturing the deep, for the answers I so truly seek.
A knife to my wrist, cutting away all my anger. I'm not afraid to die, I'm afraid of living for ever
Exiled Alone.
Exiled alive, why wasn't I slaughtered?
Am I an archetype of immortality?
My mind is twisted and crippled from false hope. The deafening echo of a voice calling