Worlds given to hell and man is helpless amongst the cincers.
How lightly tread we now...
Scourge of six thousand years,
Heap thy flesh upon the scales.
The misdeeds of your empire are epic and grave.
A sum the lives of blamed could never outweigh.
Sustaining butchers for six thousand years
Under duress of the hook and pull.
With bones from and to the dust, sod retakes its claim.
Transcience is lost,
And petty beasts will now learn how precious little they truly own.
The stench of tresses on hot coats.
Hooves of flame trample man into the embers.
The melting of malformed clay into a molten expanse.
Cry for the ages of desecration and four disfigured spheres.
These spheres make so your fate.
Shed your tears for our thristing lakes.
Distort not this placid sea.
This is the hour of extinction,
A respite in the shedding
Of the weight of life-
Life ebbing away.
How lightly tread they now...
Restore and melt again.
That ash in the lungs of arsonists is deathly,
This is the uncreation of man.
- The Creation Ruin
- Misanthropy Pure
- We Who Finish Last
- Chorus Of The Dissimilar
- In The Mind And Marrow
- To Bear The Brunt Of Many..
- Four Earths
- Set Your Body Ablaze
- Be Winged
- Cold Lord Quietus
- 1. At Least A Plausible Case..
- 2. My Heart Bleeds The Darke..
- 3. Misanthropy Pure
- 4. Scornful Of The Motives A..
- 5. Be Winged
- 6. And Their Faces Are Twist..
- 7. A Human Failing
- 8. Reach Beyond The Sun
- 9. Being Exemplary
- 10. Cold Lord Quietus