Makers Of Nihility

Whats 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 we're 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 give up?
Existence is your own
Between the mystics and the thrown

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