We are the nameless forgotten the ones who answer to the forbidden lord a plague of horror that slumbers in the writ of loathsome passages
A doom that should not exist desirous of mans extirpation see through pitch black a thousand lifetimes away
An arid stench a faltering few remain in these darkest of days fire breathes through me a serpent of chaos the fallen of the abyss
Beckon forward cries of torment heathen of thine of generations I speak we call unto you we invoke thee
We are the nameless forgotten the ones who answer to the forbidden lord a plague of horror that slumbers in the writ of loathsome passages
Fire breathes through me a serpent of chaos billowing hatred infernal scarred by the gods wrath
We are the nameless forgotten the ones who answer to the forbidden lord a plague of horror that slumbers in the writ of loathsome passages
