Lacerating pains of degeneration speed through your trembling mind Still, in machine-like strife you gain another mile The temporary elusive goal: To reach the solace, to feed once more upon the synthetic reaper of loss. No matter the outcome. No matter the cost Cold and stinging needs tearing through the halls Of your defiled, flesh made temple with its closing walls Still you claim the worshippers pose and you bow. You kneel Control: once superior, now a docile pet at chaos' feet Pulling...
Hugi notar vefkökur til að bæta notendaupplifun á vefsíðunni og greina umferð um hana.
Einnig hefur Hugi uppfært persónuverndarstefnu sína. Skoðaðu stefnuna hér..
