The Howling Dead - Autopsy

Appearing like cracked whispers

From desiccated bones

Sulphuric miscreations

Mausoleum torches glow

Spirits from beyond the black

They are three, they are true death

They are Hate, Despair, Disease

Awakened by gore to manifest

Awakened by gore…

Re-open the eyes of the once sleeping dead

The dagger goes into the wound bloody red

Releasing the spectres of yesterday’s doomed

Bane of the living, a curse to consume

Hate-a vision of flesh being torn

Despair-demise on the altar of Scorn

Disease-Inflicting the soon to be born

All have been forewarned…

The wind of flies approaches

All once held dear befouled

The earth and sea in ruins

The night alive with howls