• Shatard dreams in the mirror, a brused reflection, and a demon replasing my face.

    Slaves to this anger, our witherd bodies turn to emptey shells.
    Bleeding to breath, hung on meet hooks for ther plesure.

    My heart is growing weaker evry day, and i grow more insane.
    All these dying souls that lost all hope, that can hang on nomore.

    We choke on our blood, with shaterd pieces of glass in our throats.
    All alone touterd and affraid we are.
    Knowing that the sun will never come, a dying ember in our hearts were the flame used to be.

    We cant take nomore bloodshead.
    As we die in tears, Satan takes us to hell, were we can die again and again.
    No justice, no freedome.

    As we die in tears, a river of blood washes us away.
    As we die in tears, we cry to god WHY!?!?!?!