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Help Me Out

de Decades Late

Devastation through repellent hands. Down in a purulent cavernous breach, cryptic earth's wound that seems outlandish, unveiled by precious eclipse's glints. We won't turn back until we've seen the perishing core issue from sins, the sovereign called Gargaroth. Offspring of agony, odium and human repugnance, worship your emperor. Born of desire to admire life excruciation, bow down for Gargaroth. Offspring of hatred, despise and human repugnance, worship your emperor. Born of desire to admire life excruciation, bow down for Gargaroth. Unfolding the virtuous lair, walls of entrails, columns of corpses and ground of cold flesh that are screaming their pain. Trampling the wretched souls, from the ages of our ancestors. From the silence inspiring anguish, from the darkness the screech will perish. Fire, thunder and flames from his horrid and repellent hands, scourge and demolish all prolific lands. And I won't die in this dreary fortress, in sacred kingdoms we'll prevail. But in the end death's breeze will all embrace our chests, we won't deceive our dismal fate. Devastation through repellent hands.

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