letra de loathe - worm shepherd
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clocks pelt forward, i remain stagnant in this chair, no sound, no sentiment. my colorless eyes locked to the mirror reflecting the atrocity before it. every last emotion conjured into a silent, motionless, and cold stare. the sun rises and the sun falls. outer spirits howl with me in the fires below. still i look into the glass as suicide flows through my blood viscously churning. i begin to shake. erase the sickness from the earth. i am undeserving, i am misfortune. i am undeserving, i am misfortune the curser and the unwilling never to change what i’ve done, and i suffer the consequence eternally
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