The Black Dahlia Murder - Nocturnal

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Between the lines of dead language tongues, before the dawn our hearts they
shall hunt. The smell of blood excites the nostrils at first cut.
The sanguinary worship of red spraying punctures a sight so divine.
Clutching her carcass, a face frozen in time. A distorted dialect for the
draining of veins to the flooding of bedsheets with sick crimson rain.
A warped diction of scriptures befouled, traditions steeped within disgraces
reviled.
Father, unholy one, to your night realm we bow. Nocturnal majesty,
sworn to black we’ll always be. Damnation’s diction, a deadly disclosure,
our poisons in their goblets drip.
(Oh how) How perfectly hideous, so eloquently scribed- each scripture so skillfully sick. Parchment scabbed over with plasmatic prose, prophesize
permanent night. The words of sheer blackness paint ebony my soul and bestow me with infernal might.
A warped diction of scriptures befouled, traditions steeped within disgraces
reviled. Father, unholy one, to your night realm we bow. Nocturnal majesty,
sworn to black we’ll always be. Hatred and persistance, destined to see a complete eclipse of that hated sphere the sun.
By the light unspoken, this language of brutality. Enraptured I have become
uhonly. Night’s arms welcome me.
Nocturnal majesty, sworn to black we’ll always be. Hatred and persistance,
destined to see a complete eclipse of that hated sphere the sun