Disjecta

When the pestilence was born from a rib of evil

Disjecta


The fear impends 
knowledge is not too much 
to fight her 
fields get dark and the fire 

Growls 
You can't fight what you don't know 

Her breath tasfes of death 
her veil horribly 
dances on faces 
the reaper wing of death 
has come to reap her victims 
it's time to entrust souls 

The pain increases 
distintion doesn't exist 
plague and hunger 
don't support racial ideals 
famine propagates 
everybody is going to die 

There won't be more peace 
death grows up 
the weight of 
restruction 
will rest on 
like a capital punishment 
the pestilential war starts 
life remains 
only useless memory