thornekid

I march tonight on dim, little lights With friend and foe to search our souls Of what we are was never said So we fought for them our wretched souls I see a flash a stroke of light Struck down the field in rain of fire It is our time to meet our end For no one that we are found nothing but our souls  

If that which is a 14th of may Will come to me like a tragic day With all that is fell more astray My love for you that dreadful day In your arms was thought as warm As a morning sky with the sun up high I wished to live but I have died And willed to be of tragic fate I'm lost that day The 14th of May

A villain, a monster, a killer. I was seen as one, and they called me upon the name 'Lurker'. Infamous by my deeds, I seek to open the eyes of all man... Has no one learnt of my preachings? has no one taken my examples a warning of how they would fall to death? I take the name of the blade into its design... I am one with the knife that slitted throats and gutted all. I kill those who've done Oblivious and humanistic ideals and showed them all that we shall eat earth when time comes at hand. And Birth is pain, Life is Pain and Death is not so far the same... I wander the city streets in the coming of night. I seek the men whose ideals are

And came the great beginning...  Where men fell oncemore, and terrors of unnamed realms have come to surface. The great undoing of the world and the epic and brutal battle between men and corpses of grotesque transfigury. The nameless eyes of the Nether Rot, has close to keen on the fleeing men bound to oblivion. And flesh be consumed...  The terrible beings of limitless numbers have come to spill the blood of all to earth. Even the fertile soil of the surface was maligned with abominations of pestilence and famine. Inhuman mutilations of bladed fiends, Crushed to slime by behemoths of  ancient lore, and consumated 'til scarce the men w

The twilight gloom of the Nether skies had gone darker as the armies of tormented souls and wraiths has come to finish the Arm Bridge Of Ebum. 'Twas time for the rotting lord of corpses to call upon the last champion... "As the darkened skies that rain of blood and sinew...I call uponeth the wretched lord of the great Tartaros. He who called upon the ten miracles of blight and hunger, He who was summoned to kill the land of Ramses. Lo I bring forth my oils of fumed poison, chests of pleny bones and jars of prisoned souls... I offer to thee... With Abel's words came a shadow, a clog of compact smoke and unknown mass. It spoke saying: "So

"Lift the Radius bridge and haul the cages! The conquest is at hand!" Growled a hideous creature once known as Dumar when he was living. His bony hands and flesh-ripped arms points towards the Fleshgates. "What is your command my lord?" asked the blood-drooling Dumar "Call upon the Fifth Trumpet, blow its wretched horns and summon the Destroyer!" commanded Abel as he lay anxious to his unholy crusade. HUUUMMB!!! The bonemade horn sounded and echoed to the vast and barren wastes of Sheol. The rotting earth shook and trembled as the trumpet was repeatedly blown. And came out a magnificent and malevolent being, a being of divine and wicked

"And the fallen shall inherit the earth..." He said, Scraping and crawling to the maggot filled Fleshgates. He who remembered the promise. He who fell deep into the dark abyss of the Nether. He who felt the first deathblow... With his twisted mind, he created a world of his own. A world where the fallen will rise again. A world where saint and sinner is no different from dogs and flies... And he yelled to the womb-like tunnel of the Gates "Arise, awake or forever be fallen! The time has now come to rise oncemore!" the cancerous wastelands of the Rotting Nether boiled and swelled with blood and sinew. With as far as the eyes could see toward