Omens - Ulcerate

The reverence of those lost owed to the land*

To us it is withered and worthless

To us it does not belong

What of this radiance we have left behind?

Creatures of abyss, born of vice

We are not they

They preach chaos and delusion

And welcome it without breath

With the omens in flame

We are still;

we desert the truth

Truth has no name here

Anonymous in clouded vision

Our disgrace, far from reach

Left unknown