My death-thirst is sthrong unquenchable death-kissed, mine days in the grave... Cold and rotting... I rise as shadows, unquenchable... In phantom form casting a mournful shadow... Shrieking in the nigh... Unquenchable... Forty days i enter my corpse in the grave... To rise... Drinking and spitting blood... Cruel fangs and claws and all... Life i thirts for... That rhythm of the heart slowing... Into the abyss encireled in darkness... The void is where i breath fire... Blackned whispers call you near... Behold the death-thirst.