Confined in hopeless valleys
Stricken with vast veil of shadow
No light will reach beyond these mountains
There's more comfort to be found among gallows
We're lost within the pitch of gloom
As night-tide piles the dead ashore
The breathless laugh in the face of dreams
And the subsisting smirk midst scaling banks of gore
Decomposing tower
Self-generating cadaverous Gate to Abaddon
Lining lungs with azure plage
All will succumb to putrefaction
And we crawl higher, over the dying
Without remorse, for life we're prying
And we push forward, we march on
Into nothing, where we belong
