Shrouded In Decadence کے بول

Falling.. Dying... Darkness and snow covered my path Unbearable cold winds are facing me... My only one desired thought is death, That unique salvation.. Sorrows from The past, they all come in a dark-shaped Specter, he is stabbing me with his scythe.. Drowning in this cold suffering of mine.. I can see the sky turn to grey, beneath A wave of hate inside my now rotting body, My sight is dim and pale. Shadows... Rotting, here, alone, in deep agony, slowly Fading away.. Still shrouded in decadence... Dying.. Gone...