---

A void devoid of higher meaning

Breeding naught but tragedy

From the cradle to an early grave

Hearken to the cries of the souls so meek

The voice of those who could never speak

I speak for the dead

Through black veins where infection spread

We have finally come full circle

With thorns tearing hearts apart

It takes the hands of a sculptor

To paint the world in pain is a work of art

So let them live to suffer

For death would be too merciful

Let them pay in blood

The bill has come due for them and us

Our crusade's not over

Till the last glimmer of hope dies

All shall drown in the flood

No forgiveness allowed

Finally come full circle

Thorns tearing hearts apart

I have the hands of a sculptor

To paint the world in pain is a work of art

Sown are the seeds in the ground

Vines growing all around

Bearing the bond of the deathbound

In fear all shall drown

A dried out well to wish upon

The night may end but no new dawn

No more heroes left to save the day

An end to sorrow

No more tragedy to heal

For there is nobody left to feel it anymore

I speak for the dead

Through black veins where infection spread

Let them live to suffer

To exist it to be in chains

Let them drown in blood

As they thrash around in vain

Paint the world in red

Cleanse it of the darkest stain

Make them beg for a god

Over and over again

Sown are the seeds in the ground

Tendrils clawing all around

Bear the mark of the deathbound

In fear all shall drown