| Current mood: | metalish |
| Current music: | The Black Dahlia Murder // Hymn For The Wretched |
we are the blackness of the night
cold wind that cuts your flesh
we are the enemy praying for your certain death
we are what was, will be forevermore
in the stillest hours we awaken, enshrouded in the dark
children of the blackest seed
reared on murder and deceit
we are the thorns of human woe
his will be done
to the humble maggots
to the putrid flies
where death and hatred lurk
we shall survive
to the diseases
to the sharpest knives
when daybreak no more comes
we shall arise
we are the sickness, the stench of the deceased
your father's secret shame
our violent wrath shall be unleashed
we feast on blood and the weakness of your kind
from the haunted depths we have arisen to slither as the snake
children of the blackest seed
reared on murder and deceit
we are the thorns of human woe
his will be done
to the humble maggots
to the putrid flies
where death and hatred lurk
we shall survive
to the diseases
to the sharpest knives
when daybreak no more comes
we shall arise
lurking legion of the obscene
unheard forever in between
unbound
the liars in wait
our being you forsake
whispers upon the winds, profane
unheard, the wretched and the insane
unbound, forgotten, ignored
the ugliness abhorred
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