Feast of Martyrdom Lyrics

Bound and tortured, exhausted
To the point of being pulled into nonsense.
To die is to live and to suffer
Is to see man prosper past
The point of survival.
Crawling to the feet of
Thy Mother of anguish,
Shun and left to rot
Among the scrutiny of eyes.
Desperation for finality
Saturates each limb
Exposed to the flames,
The mass of flesh scorched
From itself.
The light's bleak nature dissolves
Into fractals of unbecoming,
Submitted to the abundance
Of void.