The Irrevocable Judgement Of The Inner World - Thirteen Bled Promises

Harsh creation, brought to the fire of hell.

Damnation, undue appalling inadvertence.

The occult of occults takes a first breath.

He’s willing to reveal himself.

From the abyss, a point of luminescence, engenders time, yet without light.

Within the darkness it starts to divide.

Emanating fire, amorphous and rough.

Inside its bowels a sun forms the crust, brittle and viscous the mirror is

cracked.

Formless.

Light uncreated reflects on the spheres.

The fire celestial, the first manifest.

Life is created and evil descends.

The heart procreated, beats with new blood.

Upon the surface opacity hides eternity from the eye.

Above, forecasting, they wait for the juncture to find an aperture back home.

Enmity, wakes among breeds.

War and misery are finally born.

For us to fill nothing but a shifting emptiness.

A concave planet.

A common grave.

Harsh creation, brought to the fire of hell.

Damnation, undue appalling inadvertence.

Confused lapsing omission.

We weren’t meant to be.

There’s a gate inside a black hole.

Open halfway.

We were not meant to be.

Traverse the sky to nihility.

We were not meant to be.

Meaningless catastrophe.

We were not meant to exist.

Ingress the subterranean, trespass the void.

We were not meant to be.