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Blight

Wrought Of Obsidian

A blight moving forward
The infiltration of beautiful cells
A rotten coagulation
For which death and indifference dwell
At the heart, mother earth lies bleeding
And feeding off of her young
Regurgitating endless shame and atrocity

Bring me the weak they say
Bring me the lost they say
Bring me the weak
Bring me the lost

In writhing splendor
The lost ask not for mercy
In silent necrosis
They perpetuate the infection

Bring the weak to slaughter
Bring the lost into death
Bring your brave to the battlefront
And face pure annihilation






Mais tocadas

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