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Mourning Beloveth - Nothing(The March Of Death) dalszöveg

A figure of despair staring into the nothingness, lost among life suckers. So 
small standing by the ocean sensing the rain, worn out from grieving through 
a storm of rage.I have succumbed to sorrow, the hoary darkness and the 
all-consuming silence, for I had such hopes and dreams, dreams that fell like 
vapours throug the summer air. I had such thoughts, thoughts that would crush 
mountains and blunt the very daggers to my heart and yet the mere sliver of 
hope sent to the corner to be lost among life's pain.... immortal. My bones 
are weary; weary from this malignant mortality we hold on to with such grim 
despair that it becomes all-consuming. In the glowering sickly green depths 
of my misery I've drank deep textures and grotesque ecstacy it's elementary 
splendour reminded of the labyrinthine intricacies of being, the squalor, 
the bewildering diversities and its lonely existence. A journey through a 
half dream, each step a death. To slip right through the cracks unnoticed or pause 
and question the meanderings of time. The grey vastness we hold onto, The 
glum adhesive that binds us through. No! 

Hark! A footfall, the march of death 
A hollow call to arms from the grave 
A curator of dead souls brings us down 
Is it a shadow of life or just some vision? 
Apocalyptic dreams 
Hark! A curator of our dead souls 

Who is it that walks so solemnly through the graves? 
Is it a shadow or just some vision? 
Apocalyptic dream 
Tracing patterns to bring us down 
Who is it that walks? 
The March of Death
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