Shai Hulud. That Within Blood Ill-Tempered. Ending the Perpetual Tragedy. Zeneszám

Hear my words that I might teach you
Take my arms that I might reach you
That I might reach
Straight for your throat

This is madness
Will we not be satisfied
Until we sit drenched in each other's blood?

The shame of only two appalling options
A taker of life, of a dead man
This is why the wives, the mothers, and children are mourning

Love, as vital to life as blood to heart
Conquers pain
Lest death intrudes by means of it's
Flawed emissary, man

On this day, saints will be sinners
There will be no victors, only bereaved
This is why we morn

Leaving the world blind, eye after eye

Disease inhabits the environs
Famine feeds our gardens
Flesh is predisposed to die
Death needs no aide

We bear blood to where we rest
And still we are not sleepless

And we will live such tragedy in perpetuity

Her loved one is dead
His loved one is dead
My loved one is dead
Your loved one is dead

This is a tragedy