Flesh Prison - text
This ministry we call hope is
nothing but a fallen con.
The faith we put into society is foul and useless.
False prophets predicting the end of the world,
feeding this surge of terror.
Disambiguation of our fear;
our thoughts and our motives.
Obsessed until exhaustion,
single-minded till self-destruction.
Wrought into this tomb of conformity.
We breathe in pain and distress.
This hell that we live in is nothing compared
to the grave we're digging.
The face of the earth will succumb
to the wrath of its gravity.
Why are we struggling to preserve a
world not worth living in and breed life into death?
- Flesh Prison
- Archaic Ascendency
- Ministry of Deceit
- Spawn of Synthesis
- Revocation (Feat. Elliot ..
- Vile Consumption