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Ice cold, staring dead into the void

The home we’ve known slowly diminishing

Eyes blanketed in the bluest film

To the families who mourn their past we pray

And pick up the scraps of this cursed present

We rot in the vat of collapse and plead in silence for another god

We hail the rulers

The price of fraud

Feel the strained embrace of a tortured life and take a hold of a hope so distant and disguised as stable

In fact fatal as well

Our birthright disabled from fate so damnable

This barren wasteland of decay

Feeds none but vermin and rat plagues

The corpses fester

The angels fall from heaven, witness sights beyond obscene

Unholy ruin

The demons crawl from hell and laugh at the sight of our forsaken kingdom

Face down in the filthy ground lay the ghosts of our starving kind

Still cold are the ways of life in the hell of the threads that bind

Foretold, the stories that we were sold

The fabrication of reality fails to uphold

Stain the lands with the blood of the emaciated ones

Fill the rivers with their rot

Pray and pick up the scraps of this cursed present

We rot in the vat of collapse and plead in silence for another god

We hail the rulers

The price of fraud

Black seed of the devils tree

Grew the scars of famine and plague unto me

Vile beasts of a fruitless war

Let the horrors of the earth consume us all

Our species, just too fragile

The violence, never ending

We’re starving, end approaches

Let us starve