Astarte

Silence is written behind icons
Icons, keep the secret of horror
Whispers, reach your fear inside conscious
Horror, rings deadly horizon
Nails Surrounds your body
Into the area of sketched delusions
Orama of my end, which will be eternal
And the smoke of dust will swallow my eyes
Fear to think the moment of my death
Mad along with body shall burry me
What matters, is the end
What kills, will soon come
A face will rot my will
A child shall meet me here
Ring of Sorrow
Trapped Inside
Locked in a well
A curse from a child
Hatred from Her Father
A never born child
A spawn on Evil