And in those frozen moments won
From grief that creeps to wreathe the sun
In drapes inwove with death shead wing
I thank God for the suffering
And I thank God for the suffering
As still I burn
For Her return
I would make my peace with everything
I, I still recall, the first fullmoon of May
Consigned to flames like secret letters
And midst the writhe of parapets
Where angels sigh, lonely she sits
Upon the lip
Only a slip from whence I beg her...
- Soulless Elegy
- Purgatory Spiral
- Cemetery of Shattered Mas..
- Malignant Prophecy
- Oration of Ruin
- Legacy of Human Irrelevan..
- Dehumanizing Procession
- Funerals Drenched in Apat..
- Worship (The War Against)..
- Memorial to the Waste of ..
- The Only Blood That Pours..
- Unblessed Be