bury them all beneath heaping shovel fulls of lime
in shallow
dear diary, tonight will be our last
my hands are itching
jaws -- dripping with disease
fingers for use of weaponry
mind spins
wisdom infinite, held tightly in my grasp
my sword one thousand
the brightest full moon light entrances me
it calls me forth
yet
we are the blackness of the night
cold wind that cuts
i awaken -- deep in the grasp of frozen pines
not
lord below, your abysmal horrors we call forth
awaken -- rise
(Instrumental)
inhuman, the mounting of a tragedy macabre
resurrection of the fallen,