Makers of Nihility

What's all the trouble What is your state of mind? Are you afraid to leave this fucking world all behind? When will you contemplate The possibility That there is nothing more than your own contortion of your entity I am in control of my own life How are we sure were not just the smoke on the horizon? Slowly passing agonizing Along with the wind to dissolve into the rest of fate Fascinated in conclusion desolation I will fall into the far corners Of torment as I rot and lament Till I'm sick and I'm bent in the arms of suffocation No more will I last and this life will just pass Do I advocate demise? What do you see in your own eyes Why don't we all just give up? Existence is your own Between the mystics and the throne The power leads you to believe That death is the wrong answering Watch as the torment tears and contorts With your sanity Your mind is bent by the Makers of Nihility Our fire burns We'll always fight Our fire burns To live or die Die I will not bow the fuck down Bow the fuck down to me Bow the fuck down Bow the fuck down to me Bow the fuck down