We are the nameless forgotten the ones who answer to the forbidden lord A plague of horror that slumbers in the writ of loathsome passages A doom that should not exist desirous of mans extirpation see through pitch black a thousand lifetimes away An arid stench a faltering few remain in these darkest of days fire breathes through me a serpent of chaos the fallen of the abyss Beckon forward cries of torment heathen of thine of generations I speak we call unto you we invoke thee We are the nameless forgotten the ones who answer to the forbidden lord a plague of horror that slumbers in the writ of loathsome passages Fire breathes through me a serpent of chaos billowing hatred infernal scarred by the gods wrath We are the nameless forgotten the ones who answer to the forbidden lord A plague of horror that slumbers in the writ of loathsome passages