| The cold is creeping in, deep dark sounds of the cemetary feinds. I fight the feeling, it nevers ends, the leaching of a life, the sweet sensation of the knife. Insisions, a world cut into sections, burn the atheist and burn the bullshit alive, turn the tables and watch the differences collide. Clash together the hate, consume all of ones dead fate, summon the space of paradigm step outside the fire and into the wind, shake off the ashes, let the deviance in, the darkness trance, the shelling sins dance, comprise the demise of the falling, compromise walled in, devistation of that nothing held obtained. Shroudded inside their shelter a withering faith, a loatheing distaste, lack of comfort and calling, the constant struggle, two beings brawling. The creeping feeling, stealing time, the creeping feeling, living life, the creeping feeling, braught to the battle, the creeping feeling imbedded within the fallen. |
