JD JACKET

Even in death the dead don't quiet. their dark Gods giving their devoted Souls Volume to once again plague the realm of the living. The Damned are forever chained to those they devote themselves to, even though their hatred blinds them to this pitiful fact. Though a gift thought we, Once Upon A Life but the price for one's Everlasting Essence is never-ending pain. An eternity of battle, an ocean of blood, a symphony of corruption and screams of the destroyed fuel the thirst for our laughing Gods. Care not, they say, for your own life, for it is as aged as the Stars. To live out your years Eternal slave, to embitter your former peers. Slaughter the Innocents, kill the weak, maim the defenseless and corrupt all else. These are the wishes of Our Gods, our Keepers. Fall From Grace and into Despair and find yourself look upon this endless stair of torment and sufferin. Piles of skulls Rise High, the river of blood overflows and the echo of Conquest forever Resound back and forth through time which holds no further meaning. They seek to devour to rip and to tear the daemon who often live here, for they want nothing more save your bones to gnash, to slurp your marrow with voracious hunger, to claw their way into your mind where they may temporarily reside. Truth be told there are those so blind that transcend this parasitic existence whence comes pain at ultimate gain, as pure horror gives birth. Every step, a tremble, every breath a quake and every word steeped in Terror. Through chains and swords they reap the fields of man as a farmer his wheat. Hunger for More is always what these awful beings march to war. Often my brothers, soft as they may, quite often shy away. And true to form the daemon is never the norm; into the Mind into the soul itself. We're not in control yet we pray like we are to our overbearing captors. To step once again into armour, we reluctantly head into The Fray to show death to my foes and hear their throes and the tread of the dirge that precedes it. the clatter of fire, the Clank of shells and the edying whine of Treads; the hissing of Pistons, the screams of Jets and the moans of cracking earth. Once more into the fog of War, from which I will never Escape