1. BEHOLD

بِسْمِ ٱللَّهِ ٱلرَّحْمَ نِ ٱلرَّحِيمِ
ٱلْحَمْدُ لِلَّهِ رَبِّ ٱلْعَ لَمِينَ
ٱلرَّحْمَنِ ٱلرَّحِيمِ
مَ لِكِ يَوْمِ ٱلدِّينِ
إِيَّاكَ نَعْبُدُ وَإِيَّاكَ نَسْتَعِينُ
ٱهْدِنَا ٱلصِّرَطَ ٱلْمُسْتَقِيمَ
صِرَطَ ٱلَّذِينَ أَنْعَمْتَ عَلَيْهِمْ غَيْرِ ٱلْمَغْضُوبِ عَلَيْهِمْ وَلَا ٱلضَّآلِّينَ

In the name of God, the infinitely Compassionate and Merciful.
Praise be to God, Lord of all the worlds.
The Compassionate, the Merciful.
Ruler on the Day of Reckoning.
You alone do we worship, and You alone do we ask for help.
Guide us on the straight path, the path of those who have received your grace; not the path of those who have brought down wrath, nor of those who wander astray.


2. DESECRATED

We are the blackest of the bastards.
Our fathers are our gods.
We smile like our creator as she tears out her septic heart.
The trigger is seducing this poor pathetic will.
Flesh will spill the ink as time prepares to kill.
We are the princes of filth wearing the earth as a throne.
We are the princes of filth.
We're crumbling for a crown of frozen thorns.
And so the ancients have sworn this name, creating earth and printing the idol's grave.
Bringing the end, this warning will bring me in.
And then we all just saw them die and listened to them rot.
Why are the children bathing in their scales, chanting serpent names?
We all just saw them die and listened to them rot.
We all just saw them die and listened to them rot.
We dance in their coils and chant and...
When the intent of death fails its end and makes life hell.
Send us something that will maintain this despair.
The hour sounds for an end.
Watch yourself and your turning belief just fade and writhe.
He says "Fall before me like stone."
Blindness find me, writing and inscribing, carving legends into idol eyes.
The dying sediments are sworn and tied to the martyrs pulse.
The dishonored sun is boiling my body, pretending I'm dead.
Worship in shame the worshipers of clay when the insipid fallacy is exposed.
We are the blackest of the bastards.
Our fathers are our gods.
Our gods.
Nothing but shame.
Nothing but hate.
For the unjust faith.
Just say a prayer.
Say a prayer.
Imbibe the words we claim to be so dear.
The wasting of a generation.
Forsaken prince of filth.
Arise the blackest of bastards, the honored sons of sin.
The wasting of a generation.
Desecrated.
Wake the ancients and then the stones will bleed.
Wake the undead and then the bones will break.
Wake from a thousand year sleep where ignorant and blinded weep.
Wake the ancients and then the stones will bleed.
Wake the undead and then the bones will break.
Send us something that will maintain despair.
Wake the ancients and then the stones will bleed, Desecrated.


3. THE FINAL WORDS

Lo and behold!
They preach servility, the conformed way of breathing.
They speak in the same tongues everyday.
Betwixt fear I smelt a carcass bathed of sin.
The carrion swarm will love us for this one.
Our only curse is the disgusting rotting urge.
To feed our ears with the devils piss.
Loyal and servile we kneel before his fallen throne.
Let us try recite once, before we rot and burn.
Master almighty, my light, separate my sinful spine.
"Bow your heads, to the sound of creation.
To the giver and take of life."
Swallow the sand and let it drown your insides.
This must be cleansing.
Cleansing for the constant current of whispers.
In the eyes of every second there is the warm breath of his lowness.
Temptation is our common blood as it runs free through the brain of every human skull.
Our fragile spines are so very meek.
We fracture to the simple calls of six fingers, eyes and feet.
Now I see what we've come to spectate today:
To pit the flesh on our back against nerves will never hold our will.
They won't give in.
They won't give in until we've surrendered.
They won't give in. The signals deep beneath my feet preach past the beat and rest beneath.
The martyrs call but we bind the lock and heave.
And now we've fallen from such monumental height unto the grounds of summoning fear.
So perfectly measured, calculated every deed.
The books of his back hands march to the path of transcribed disease.
I've given up.
And the world has given in.
When there is nothing left of earth, recite the final words.
When there is nothing left of earth, recite the final words.
Recite the final words.
When there is nothing left of earth, recite the final words.
"Mother abysmal can you mask my life's obscenities?"
The sky has spoken.
I'm in contempt up to my ears, mother.
Cry every unbirthed captive wolf.
The scale is now my master.
Respond only to his voice" Respond only to his voice.
They won't give in until we've surrendered.


4. REVELATIONS

Let's go.

Dearly beguiled, we're gathered to commemorate this blessing that became the greatest of mistakes.
The sword soul and flesh have since then become one.
This impasse has become the single source for slandered tongue.
Now we are being slowly erased with what we were made.
This impasse will trickle flames and offer us a testing taste.
Now this is what they had spoken of.
The incarnate.
The indescribable.
Slowly we're falling into the trance of decay.
Slowly we're falling into the trance of decay.
But when the sun gives out we rise.
This is our forthcoming.

We rise.

This is the end.
Or is it just the end of?
This is the end.
This is the end.
Or is it just the end of?

Time will taint and seconds force open our eyes.
The core of light will break and force the world to realize.
Lubricating lungs with sweet venomistic wine.
Meets pounding sheets as it captivates.
Into the casket this case confines each and every thought.

Asphyxiated.

My mind slowly begins to rot.
And all will rot and writhe until we rise.
A day will come when the dead will rise up from the earth.
And all will witness the reversal of decrepit birth.
A day will come and soon everyone will realize that in living we have crafted our own self-demise.
A day will come when the dead will rise.
A day will come when the dead will rise up from the earth.


5. A FILTHY ADDICTION

"I burned in the Garden of Paradise."
A lifetime of disbelief is now shackled by its throat.
For he never turned unto the gates but burned it down with earth.
He ingests his wealth, contemplates the drain, his emerald soul.
His grave will sleep warm of opulent eyeballs.
And at the summoning grounds is the reunion where abundance is abound.
Broken teeth are found in the bones and backs beyond the flesh of animals.
And so began:
A filthy addiction.
The price on life had begun to substitute.
Thus he verbalized for every sad inhuman worth.
Broken teeth are found in the bones and backs beyond the flesh of animals.
And so began:
A filthy addiction.
The price on life had begun to substitute.
And so commenced the sick unholy glowing green addiction.
Thy thirst to strip the forest keeps the world in cold affliction.
Sunk its leaves of sustenance, drilling holes in all his teeth.
Locked the spoils in their place,
"Carry your grin between your greed"
Infinitely basking, is his chest displaced with gold?
The mountains have not piled yet, must he slit a robins throat?
The years will multiply and yet he never feels content with himself and now he turns to burn the garden of paradise.
Nothing saves.
Behold there is no gold that saves your soul.
To quantify salvation is to be unborn.
There is no price on life to be paid.
Every man is his own savior.
His basking is now met with an unfortunate realization.
Of his heart solid gold failed on the stretchers congression.
And so it had ended.
Echoed forever, a filthy addiction.


6. THE ARCHITECT

Brace yourself.
The towers arch over our heads.
The signs inching down our necks carve the path of our existence.
No obelus could be printed in the temple walls.
Perfection to the micrometer and no pillar could ever fall.
Brace yourself.
The sky is a dance of culling blades.
Encircle as knifehand prays to incise before ascending.
Surely the sea had been split and from its middle ground rose a serpent from a stick.
We have regressed with every step we grow much closer but now we tear the horns and beg the books will end the torture.
He who kneels before his lord is saved.
The towers above and the infinite throne have watched over millions of centuries to show there is not in existence a word to describe the love the creator has left for mankind.
The structures convey the majestic framework of the consuming earth, oceans placed universe.
Constructed pieces scream the same verse in his name.
Kneel before your lord.
Rest easy child.
You are saved.
He who kneels before his lord is saved and will behold the architect.
Behold the architect.
Brace yourself for time is proportioned now to stop dead and planets will come to sudden halt.
Brace yourself. Mountains will turn over in guilt the footwork will uproot itself exposing everything its built.
Brace yourself to feast eyes upon the most merciful most gracious light that any man could ever have beheld within his sight.
Kneel before the throne.
Seconds will race encasing quickly clouding thoughts, masking thy conviction tracing all to be untaught.
Pressed forehead to the floor, flow tears for mindless solace upon the edge of crafting fate where it's met with oceanic abyss.
Deliver what is mine to take for I submit unfaltering faith.
He who kneels before his lord is saved.
Kneel before your lord.