---

Beneath the clutter and debris,

They lie half-dead, anxious and free.

To trick the death after their mass undoing,

(They) have to accept the foul existence in ruin.

Hunger stings, prayers uttered in disbelief

As the earth crumbles above.

Hate stirs while the blind soldiers of heresy

Raze their homes to the ground.

Martyrs of war shall transcend the abyss,

They've been through it all, seen the tunnel and its bliss.

Some rose from the grave, their eyes cold, no tears shed.

Now all they can do is wander and remenisce.

Beneath the clutter and debris,

They lie half-dead, anxious and free.

To trick the death after their mass undoing,

(They) have to accept the foul existence in ruin.

Defilers of gods (shall) transcend the abyss,

They saw monarchs fall, feeding kingdoms to their beasts.

Death lingers not far, yet they live, but suffer.

Until the bleak skies light up in the final release.

Beneath the clutter and debris,

I crawl a slave, leash burdens me.

To overcome the fear of our mass undoing

Means to accept the foul existence in ruin.