Your Joys will cease!
And the mocking will stop.
Your songs will fall silent.
All consuming, the sound of human torture.
Your joys will cease
And the mocking will stop.
Your songs will fall silent.
All consuming, the sound of human torture.
Agony tearing open the ears of the saints.
Screaming, begging & pleading for death in any form
To steal you away from the affliction;
To take you away from the unending horror.
Blood emerges in dry clots
And your screams are in vain
As
(death) Abaddon's Hoard overtakes you
(tearing your flesh from your bones).
Blood emerges in dry clots
And your screams are in vain
As
(death) Abaddon's Hoard overtakes...
Abaddon's Hoard overtakes YOU
Piercing! Ravaging!
Devouring your will to live.
Like leaves to a locust is the flesh of the markless man to these swarms of sadism.
And two woes are yet to come…
Writer(s): Vasely Sapunov
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