Into The Rage of The New Melancholic Age

The hand of the eastern lantern Have shed a light on me again My patterns are discontinued A blood flow pumped in pain Send shivers down my skin O the highest order, o the clearest soul O the interment, howl in control Harsh of a promise The urge of divine Bend over their feet I'll earn what's mine Harsh of a promise The urge of divine Bend over their feet I'll earn what's mine Ceremonial corruption, under seduction Sleeping hours, of your last To hold a glorious march Hardening a thoughtful desire You have built no structure Thou hunger stunned satire The journey of the thousand candles Shined you in fear For you I have placed fire tears Only to bring thou here Agony is terrified Age is numbered My longing have waited For my life to be haunted