| Under the darkness of an unborn sun her curses echo
|
| Thought to be of nightmares, her form is that of smoke
|
| Whispering in and out of our dreams
|
| She’s found us through the darkest gate
|
| The figure lurking beyond your gaze
|
| The sensation of a wandering phantom
|
| The sacrificial dagger thrust
|
| Wander not towards the screams
|
| An evil only Satan can fathom
|
| Walking neath the stars. |
| A trail of blood at her feet. |
| Unseen by eyes in this
|
| realm
|
| A stench of waste ‘round this gate. |
| A passage to the void
|
| The absence of light weighs down upon you. |
| The darkness itself carries a
|
| demonic touch. |
| It is not until true terror sets in that you hear her
|
| incantation
|
| «Arise. |
| My son. |
| With the forest you will grow. |
| With blood. |
| With bone.
|
| With this sacrifice you’ll be whole.»
|
| Mist that smells of rotten flesh carries a curse throughout the skies.
|
| The scent fuses with your memory and rots your mind
|
| Crawling under her spell. |
| Your movement hindered by rot
|
| Lie down and join the worms
|
| A trail of blood at her feet. |
| Unseen by eyes in this realm. |
| A stench of waste
|
| around this gate
|
| A passage to the void |