- Paradox Death -


In the dry-caked, oozing ground,
The blood of all lost time is bound.
When we die, we rip our skin,
And the devil's sin sets in.

Hollow sound within our veins
As our blood cries out in pain;
Scimitar blade in your throat -
Chanting, dancing 'round the goat.

Satan's lies fill your head -
Hell spawned ritual that's devil bred.
Cough as burning blood red smoke
Burns your eyes, as you choke.

Like a leper, your flesh decays -
Falling off as the drummer plays;
Chanting sound as your spirit dies -
Sell your heart for pagan lies.

Damning fire falls around you;
Hellstone torching all your boundaries.
Feel the total, writhing agony -
Fire brings you to your knee.

Writhing twitch - screaming death -
Acrid stench fills your breath;
Lungs burst as your windpipe snaps,
Broken as your strength is sapped.

Devil grabs you by the throat -
Guts your insides, and then gloats.
He stares at you as he laughs -
Burns you with his Baal craft.

Witch's brew within the pit
Steals your heart as you submit.
In the cauldron, your red blood boils -
Shattered heart drips on the soil.

All that's left of your immortal soul
Is the pain that hell controls.
Too dazed to move - painful stasis -
Paradox death - Devil's Heaven oasis.


- (c)˙Scimitar Wraith - GOTHiC˙-