Robbed of the soul, live in hell.
Rise above the charred beleaving smell.
Rise above the soul’s chalky chains.
Give the destiny what its named.

The darkest white brought in death below that’s soon to come.
Rise above the dark demon’s tower.
Your body seized the charge.
You’ve killed yourself.
Killed. Killed yourself.

Rotting the soul to live. Ranting, “She’s one to give.” Darkening your soul to wane. Ranting, “She’s soon to gain.”

Rotting above the tide. Ranting, “She’s holding time.” Killing their souls in pain. Ranting, “She’s one to gain.