Ovid's Withering - Grothis, The Insatiable | Текст песни

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• Ovid's Withering
• Grothis, The Insatiable

Ascending from the swamps of Tenebris
Convalesence; a reformation of design
Worlds shifting to line at their fingers
Architects; Isochronisms animated by disease

And spewed forth from the dead vale, the glutton sought to obsess every organic essence.
The Stygian beast came upon an entity, seemingly lost in itself..

"So, we meet at last...
Pitiful and pale is the form,
Limpid as the womb from whence you came,
Truly, the Makers have forsaken thee.."

'I'll shape the earth, as a glutton forming regalement
Filling up the skies with the apparitions escaped the sands
Culling the weak through the minds that begot the catharsis
I will manipulate the creation of the vale'

"What did you think this would accomplish?
Toil for the ants if you must,
But I shall see the Sun be blotted out as a negation of your trust.
Until the soil is left bereft of life, shall night reign over Gaia,
Left powerless, your petty grasp on ash and rust is meaningless...
Your Divinity lays wasted."

'My divinity is wasted paying mind to you
What I form is my design and my designs are infallible by default
I will consume until my eden is complete
Should the blood of the vale be my mortar
Then, I will have her bleed

I'll shape the earth, as a glutton forming regalement
Filling up the skies with the apparitions escaped the sands
Culling the weak through the minds that begot the catharsis
I will manipulate the creation of the vale'

"Watch me feast on the ash of gods
Feed the scourge; the grovelings of Tenebris"

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