Acrid Semblance. From The Oblivion. The Desecrator. Zeneszám

Inside your mind, stays Evil that's concealed
Inside your mind, writhes a plague reaching distance unseen
Through your mind, streak of blinding malice runs squirts
Through your mind, a decorated pain is dispatched

Who you are? The Desecrator's ghost!
Who you are? The painter of human soul!
Why can't you hear? The cries of everlasting pain!
Why you play? The succulent games that make us astray!

The panic cries haunt our existence to the end
The victim, he dies deeply subdued
The holy angels, concealing lies
The messiah of darkness, get aside

Who you are? The Desecrator's ghost!
Who you are? The painter of human soul!
Why can't you hear? The cries of everlasting pain!
Why you play? The succulent games that make us astray!

[Solo: Kshitish]
[Solo: Vikas]
[Solo: Anubhav]

Do you mind? If I take a loaf!
Of the conquest, to break away
To break away and run free!
Do you mind? If I take a loaf!