The Spell of Doom

The Spell of Doom

Rituals Of The Oak

Day turns to dusk
Skies veiled black and shadows fall
In a spiral of twisting fate I crawl
Descent begins,
A sense of madness burns within
I am a slave unto sin

Inebriating tones are whispering my name
Under the spell you”re never the same

From bleeding eyes
A crimson trail of bitter tears
Past fires burn smoke never clears
I turn from faith,
While shades of night hide my disgrace
Consumed by guilt falling from grace

In suffocating darkness I have been reborn
and for your sheltered souls I mourn

The Spell of Doom

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