---

The rattle of the bones in the wooden pole

still deafens the ears of the victim

A nightmarish vision, armies of flies

Feasting on their remains

Solely living on death feeding

How inhuman their massacres were seen

how glorious their offering

to the altar of the black scythe

how magnificent are their yells

The wheels never stop turning

Magnum Opus of the unnamed

the breaking wheel spins

A thirst for blood always incessant

initiates the laceration

when they are facing their downfall

when the tissue is decayed

when the reaping is perfected

how unstoppable is the advance of the blade

the torsion of the rope,

the coldness of its putrid breath

how obnoxious the eyes of the ignorant

when death is pleasing its appetite



when fear is fed by its pain

now surrender to its unfolding

may this glorious torment lead us to Total Death