The Dark Bliss of the Unknown

A crime is committed, lying upon your chest;
the mind corroded with filthy, horrid sin.
Nothing will ever seem great, no effort put to best;
the cold stone heart blindly welcomes hell in...

Inside all you feel is the cold, dark emptiness,
with death lurking every corner, hiding in walls of obsidian;
the corrupted soul venturing into an unknown bliss of darkness
and the sordid deeds seem to cause infinite oblivion.

In this dimension of petrifying shadow bliss,
the black heart crushes and burns in pain every beat.
The tainted blood now dust, living in a black abyss;
the spirit alone, trapped in silence, lying on frigid, rough sleet.

Within is nothing; the core, the soul has died...
along with hope and happiness, thoughts fog, never to be clear;
and the angels themselves took so much pity they cried.
On down the cheeks, past darkness and oblivion rain tears.

Falling one by one on the black marbled sepulcher of hope,
only to vanish into the deep crushing sea of blood and death.
All life is covered in a coal, shadow cloak;
annihilating all light, no more life, no beating nor breath...

Soon the sin invades everything and no humanity is left,
with the collector of souls here to reap and sow;
everywhere darkness, oblivion, and crimes have crept,
within your soul, this is the dark bliss of the unknown...