Terra tribus annulos
Primus, the river, a nile of coagulated encrusted shores
Blisters boil from flesh to blood
Beyond sight stretched the streams of gore
Hideous spawn, nessus the damned, deemed to guide
Head of an ox and body of man
Punishment for the most heinous of crimes
Reveal the path upon which we shall bride
Through the forest of mors voluntaria
To live like gods with a tyrannous reign
To walk the earth enraged whilst delivering pain
Murder finds justice in the fire of the brook
Smolder in the blood of every life that you took
Murderous executions, decimators of life
Perpetually captive to blood spilling innocents with spite
Sodomized in the Phlegathon’s malevolent sanction
Forever the lungs of the butcher internally filled with flame
For great is the pain
Searing of flesh with the smoldering breath
And the scorching of futile remains
Apotheosize their extinction, glorifying their eternal death
Secundum circulum, blackened and withering husks
Protruding toxic thistles seeping of obsidian sap
As hisses turn to wails, destruction and suicide entails
Soak in their sinful death
Pass the final judgement they will remain
No carnal resurrection here
Their festering corpses on limbs of thorn will hang
Damnation beyond eternity they fear
Roots sprout misfortune, nourish affliction, stretch thy skin
Disfiguration at the crust thickets grow within
Growing ever stronger, self-hatred shall bloom
Vines of self-loathing and bitterness resume
[Solo M. Pugh]
In the heart a heretic regret gives birth to cries
Cynics of the holiest temples scorched on the sand supine
Viscous flow the fires smelting sluggish in the sky
Like branches choked by honey as it’s seeping from the hive
Consuming the flesh all but skeletons are left
Regeneration of their bodies will fill the belly of
Carnivorous embers
Sodomites sink in this barren earth
Flakes of ash in a gust like a blizzard
Suffocate the lungs of the usurer
Storms of fire rage in oblivion
[Solo M. Pugh]
Decem regna malum, ten realms of the Malebolge we face
Beware less thee be devoured
Vivid is the scythe brought by death to this place
To live like gods with a tyrannous reign
To walk the earth enraged whilst delivering pain
The bell tolls immensely in the fire by the brook
Through the gates he must wander again
