No more a victim of a crusade
Where souls are strung from a moral palisade
I slit my wrists and quickly slip away...
I journey now on jewelled sands
Beneath a moon to Summerlands
To grace Her lips with contraband
The blaze once in my veins...
Exit
Sacrifice
Sigils Made of Flesh and Trees
Pyramid of Skulls
Exit
Apparitional Void of Failure
Horizon Of Plastic Caskets
Inner Sanctum Surveillance
Obfuscated in Oblivion
Unblessed Be
Untitled
Damage Your Soul
Reflecting hateful energy
Nocturnal Poisoning
Untitled II
The Light of Those Who Failed
May Your Void Become As Deep As My Hate
Untitled
Xastur Within
Telepáticos cujos