Lux Tenebris

Nascentes morimur. finisque ab origine pendet

Submitted by The Void — Feb 14, 2026

In the times of quiet desperation Even death will be weak The barren soil Will make us starve The blood of gods Will bring us sorrow The sun will hide grimly Pleasure will be dissolved In silence, birds will fill the sky No beyond We will never find relief Not even beyond We will never see the light

Submitted by The Void — Feb 14, 2026

We bring the mark of death Scratched on our foreheads We march through our ghosts Until our last breath Here and now we came to warn you all Secrets never rest in peace This hole will never get filled It just grows deeper and deeper over again We've been chosen We've always been How ruthless this cruel feral cold I'll stay cold

Submitted by The Void — Feb 14, 2026