October
Tuesday 16 February 2010 photo 1/1
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Despair all ye nations, deny not that we're sick,
For our blood is like water where once it was thick.
And our minds have grown leaden, our bodies gone weak,
And venom pours from our lips whenever we speak.
Despair all ye nations, for the time draws apace,
When the rot of the cynics shall steal our good grace.
And our sweetest of dreams shall fade to lost hope,
Our pride and our arrogance; our noose and our rope.
Despair all ye nations, see the years drawing on,
Our great cultures are fading and soon they'll be gone.
So conceited our scholars, they jeer through their teeth,
With their theories so shallow - quite soulless beneath.
Despair all ye nations, for the ending is near,
When the Lord of Lost Heart shall govern us with fear.
Our weakness unfetters as we face this unknown,
And our faith trails to nothing; we stand here alone.
Despair all ye nations, the Corrupter has come,
And the sad days of this world are nearing their sum.
For the shining ideals through endeavors we sought,
Grow sour as the passes and are coming to nought.
Despair all ye nations, there's no hope for us now,
For we made this monster, placed a crown on his brow.
He fed on our apathy; our pain made him swell,
We gave him Dominion, he gives us his Hell.
// Liber Chaotica; volume 3 - Liber Nurgle
Förruttnelse, hasta, o älskade brud,
att bädda vårt ensliga läger!
Förskjuten av världen, förskjuten av Gud,
blott dig till förhoppning jag äger.
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