Doom... Another soul brought to it's fate

Loss... Punishment I create

They are all so thoughtless

Brought down by their own sins.

Run from the sickness that lays in your veins

The dark path forbids you to cure yourself

Your-Self...

Voice of fate, Trembles in fear

As the Mourning Chorus Draws to a close.

Taken a back from your life, Crippled with disease

By the stagnant blood that kills from within

Find the reason or path for the cure you do not know

Punish the few that have the strength to endure it Through

Graves of long dead men

Your end now beacons.

Played out to the end, Could you ask for much more

That this game to be played to a rotten, stinking corpse

There's no life to be gained and the pain is too great

Rotting flesh that remains, Is the final : END OF ME