The wind cast a ruin upon my soul.
The night is dying, yet we cursed the dawn, each mourning, upon a festering grave.
The moonlight has no shine through the doom.
The burning corpse of god shall keep us warm in the doom of howling winds
For we are a race from beyond the wanderers of night.
Exit
Sacrifice
Sigils Made of Flesh and Trees
Pyramid of Skulls
Apparitional Void of Failure
Exit
Horizon Of Plastic Caskets
The Light of Those Who Failed
Untitled
Unblessed Be
Telepáticos cujos
Inner Sanctum Surveillance
Beauty is Only Razor Deep
Obfuscated in Oblivion
Intro
Reflecting hateful energy
Blood From the Roots of the Forest
Possession of Desolate Magick
Damage Your Soul
Untitled