A once sacred womb, now more akin to a furnace. And we watch her bleed, watch the wounds run dry. Bury my hands in the soil Fingers withered and grey
We built our towers in sand And now they collapse around us, As we fall into the cracks. Nothing shall remain as it once was. Hold on to these falling
There is a mist that chokes the land. The waves attack. Relent. The skies attack, They come, relentless.
Who will guard these hills? Those which are abandoned. Those which are exhausted. Everything is collapsing, can you see it? Awareness will come slow,
wand Ia iak sakkakh iak sakkakth Ia shaxul [Solo: Azagthoth] I call forth the god pazuzu I call forth the lord of plague I am of the lost Creatures
