Christian Meat (Lost Soul)

A soul broken, an empty shell Rusty knife cuts your infantile dreams From the bowels of the world depraved Slow abortion that never ends Disgusting rituals of spawning hope Expected answer in musty words His dead tongue is like umbilical cord Through which they sip sick visions Suppressed are crippled thoughts Torn into shreds weak belief Emanating in twisted images Fearing to be divided No cure for this disease Devouring from the inside Shining jewel, a thing of pride Turns into ashes trampled down A soul broken, an empty shell And only blackness here so cold around Torn into shreds weak belief There's no place for eternal rest