Tekster: London After Midnight. Revenge.

Deep in this blackened void,
the space that used to be my soul
no ray of light no hope has shown
there in the darkened cold.

In time memories and pain
will fade and disappear they must,
but not until this mortal being
has turned to scattered dust

You cannot judge what you don't understand
take the blade from the child's hand
all the petty lies and the jealous whores
matter little and leave me bored

Repent, Remorse,