Behold this vision to the other side

A land of shadows parallel to the seen
It exists for the reason of dying
No-one lives in this place
It exists solely for the dying

The stink of decaying souls
The smell of rotting spirits
Sometimes the wind carries
That stench with its breath

The souls captive and present here
Leprous entities weakened by pestilence
Are weeping agonized by decay
They carry a tune so sombre
"Perdition eternal"

The gateway to beyond
Is only reached by dying
The key to oblivion
It's in the hands of the dying

Land of the dead
Necropolis
Where the dead linger on
In endless suffering
Realm of the lost
A land of putrefaction
There the spirits cry on and on
In eternal misery