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