So when the sun sets, we stood aware to watch the dead awakenWe felt the air. Cold, bitterly piercing lives it soon would takenAll unaware, those dismal signs of ill regretnHow to compare, the birth of superstition’s endnnWhen you awake, you’ll long for the life of inane innocencenWe’ll say goodbye. Just worry about yourself until you’re spentnSwarming around. Abundant, they will not stop herenMaking a sound, will surely sentence you to death.nnDestruction ofnA subtle reanimation of death in its unaltered statenThis blade cuts through the flesh nnIt’s been too longnFor tragic faults that they fed us, abide and conform, try to hidenHope for what won’t be therennWe will denynThe empty lie that you swear to, confined by obscenity’s dreamnWake up and see the endn