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Whispers carries the dark

From the shadows she approach

Carrying her scythe and broom

To sentence you to your tomb

Your body feels sore, coughing up blood

Hands start to rot, nails peeling off

Your puke is black and you skin is burning

Dizziness and seizures take over, your head is turning

The only salvation will be lying in a coffin

Feeling dry as hell itself, but can’t stop coughing

Necrosis of the flesh, bloody fucking mess

Excruciating torment, black dess

Covered with boils, blackening the flesh

At the point of bursting, exuding pussy abscess

Your skin erupts with acral gangrene

The foul stench of death bestows the unseen

At last, death is your escape

Dreams deserts you, a misty drape

Consciousness, your fiend

Succumb to the black-cled queen

The only salvation will be lying in a coffin

Feeling dry as hell itself, but cant stop coughing

Necrosis of the flesh, bloody fucking mess

Excruciating torment, black dess

The fever is rising, visions of the goat

The dancing death grips your throat

Necrosis of the flesh, bloody fucking mess

Excruciating torment, BLACK DEATH!