Testi:
Throneaeon

the world has come to end the devil is on his own by that which has been made this earth will be laid to waste the presence of the one not felt but known

restricted rules applied, deprived on our exemption why impose gods will afraid of the suffering inside your own head why do you fear the things we

their stiff and pale faces all twisted with a terrified gaze empty eyes, have you reached your promised place without a sound those spirits enticed into

the sinful offering, enraptures, enslaves and incites intertwined with the gift of the gods pleasure to whom it is sworn having faith in that of flesh

too many times we?ve been shackled to our feet with words of disdain from the shallow men far too long the truth has been withheld the genuine faith

a temple made of flesh in which we emerge to a world of ourselves the rising of the strong and strength is found in the blood of man there?s a throne

as one we stand, here and after as one we stand in our secret places for it is the way it must be, our minds, our spirits merging move in me your soul

the path of greed for you to tread take of that which may leave the rest the part of your life you try to refuse and when you succeed you wander in fear

the world has come to end the devil is on his own by that which has been made this earth will be laid to waste the presence of the one not felt but known