Worms, trapped in the mud, writhing in blood death comes for all, selfish maker
The undertaker, tending gods acre
Cursed to exist
Lost in the mist
(life as a cyst)
cursed to exist
Suffer then die
We are sealed to our fate
Yet we pray at their shrines
Life is anguish
Wights coming from the smoking mounds
Skin crawling from the screeching sounds hands reaching from the rotten ground
Drawn into the realm we’re bound
He watches, in silence, unfettered, violence