| Abased by my grief, the troubled mind | |
| I bear, drags me down the abyss of endless loneliness. | |
| Enlight the reek in which you dwell. | |
| You re the weak your soul has fell. - | |
| Hear the prayer of a lost soul. | |
| Even though the greatest of my wishes is being stoic, | |
| God has made me one of many stooges. | |
| Trusting only thou who is alike myself. | |
| I merge with the darkness that embraces me for who | |
| I am. Emaciated by their faulter moves, they hide under the cloak of blasphemy. | |
| Desperately yearning for love, finding only misery | |
| Avount Now | |
| I loath the presence of | |
| God, whom | |
| I had such trust in. | |
| Only to be abandoned, my hardest of times. | |
| Pierce the mind see what is not. | |
| Try to sense the spirit rot. |
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