Rotten corpses lying in the
foreground of a putrid graveyard
somber fog spreads across the
tombs of this cemetery
dark spirits rises from the remains
of a wasted carcass
haunting darkness covers the figure
of the crescent moon
In the burned soil I bury myself, letting
the spirits possess my crumbling body
pierce my grievous soul, with the
knife, of the eternal cerulean fire
merge from the casket and spread the disease,
melt the lifes of the mournful bastards
starving spirits, of the no more living ones
chase the nocturnal visitors of the cold gravesite
revel in decay and suffer in torment
spirits of the living dead
rotting, revolting, screaming, repulsive
spirits of the living dead
ghostly apparitions and funeral pyres
shouting and yelling from above the fires