They Raised A Pale Sigil

from Guide Us To Our Graves by Writhe

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lyrics

Amidst the flames, the spirits sing. A pale sigil is raised in their name. Appease the masters and make them hear our screams. A writhing, rotten and dying soulless claim. A face rises up, the smoke plumes pulling outwards. "What does thou want, mortal? Pain, disease or pleasure?" It's here we've beckoned you, to save our worthless species. It's here we beg of you, to call on light is heresy. Rain down, everlasting entity. "I won't help these dying worms, you see. Parasitic, eating off the flesh from me. You will die, breathe the flame in eternity." We have failed you, here we lie. This is where it ends, all of mankind cries. The skies envelop the earth as she dies. Our words fall silent as the spirits fly. The grass is gone and the world turned bare. The trees don't sway, no life lives here. A single tear for what once was, there's no repairing what we have done. Our souls condemned for eternity, enslaved of malevolent entities. This spell binds none, we are undone.

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from Guide Us To Our Graves, released June 22, 2018

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Writhe Minneapolis, Minnesota

Dead.
2018-2020.

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