Quarantine

You awake to the putrid stench of decomposing fleshWelcome to oblivionDo not pray, for salvation won't comeYour savior does not dwell in this placeSo turn your back on your faithIt only further holds you captiveYou are the bastard dying children of this raceTurn your back on all faithA desensitized state of consciousness disables every attempt to recall your originThe sight and pungence of scorched human remnants foreshadow the purpose of containmentShowing symptoms of the afflicted ones, you're forcibly secluded from the general populousRestrained, sedated, and internally testedArchaic instruments have penetrated fleshPainfully extracting blood in search of virulent, crimson spray stains the wallsTheir draining torture device induces seizureVital signs are weakenedSickness flows from every arteryThere is no hope of survival for the diseasedYou are the bastard dying children of this raceCondemned and left in quarantineThere is no hope for survivalSickness flows from every arteryEmbrace oblivionYou are the bastard dying children of this race