A soul broken, an empty shell

Rusty knife cuts your infantile dreams

From the bowels of the world depraved

Slow abortion that never ends


Disgusting rituals of spawning hope

Expected answer in musty words

His dead tongue is like an umbilical cord

Through which they sip sick visions


Suppressed are crippled thoughts

Torn into shreds weak belief

Emanating in twisted images

Fearing to be divided


No cure for this disease

Devouring from the inside

Shining jewel, a thing of pride

Turns into ashes trampled down


A soul borken, an empty grave

And only blackness here so cold around

Torn into shreds weak belief

There's no place for eternal rest