And Still I Wither - Enslavement of Beauty

My mind is wrapped in winds of enslavement

«I'm sorry I blasphemed thy beloved kingdom»

With a kiss of grace thou besmear my soul

Nothingness can now be seen mirrored in my feeble eyes

This is the coldest hell…

So now I experience a void I know so well

A song of emptiness are fed again

Thorns arise with the breeze of cold insanity

I am alive but yet so dead

So fucking dead…

Written in blood over a wasteland of bones

Reflected upon a frozen horizon

Sinister and terminal this hope of desolation

With a whiff of desecration and hate

So let my burned out mind fall dead to the ground

And rape my soul with a demoniacal smile

Stab these thorns deeper into my heart

And free me from these depressive thoughts

Cleanse me…

This is the coldest hell…