Billows of smoke
Vines surrounding
Taking the rightful
Back from the shamed
Fortunes are pointless
Death is a comfort
Shrines of the spiteful
The dearly decayed
The weight has broken our backs
The fog has polluted our minds
The water has the stench of 1000 nights
Below us in the valley of grime
Sparks across the deadest sky
Fractals in the Sands
Rule the night with torches
Rule with heavy hands
Burn for the questions
Burn for the lies
Burn for deception
The human inside
Take me away
Fist of the night
The dearly decayed
The human inside