Death Grasp Oblivion کے بول

Entrenched in bitter soil, twisting in the mud of days that past Drowning in regret, clawing at the possibility of a painless death And then the death sets in, empty sucking open bin It needs to eat your soul, your flesh will soon be an empty hole The eater of souls has come Run and run no more This hole is the whole, it eats both creator and whore Death grasp oblivion Death claws at your throat... Death grasp oblivion, the fingers of the foul ripping Grasping for your life, the rusting meatcleaver of unlife