Solace. The essence of fear present in these creatures On unhallowed grounds they stand, the faceless Abnormalities devoid of life Slaves to a turbulent master Buried under new forced existence Venturing on terror's wings Faceless abnormalities devoid of life The truly fortunate ones know not of their existence Those who are fortunate are pleasantly unaware The fortunate ones know not of my remains An altar of clay, and my cross to bear Disgusted by their movements Shadows dance along cracked skin Clinging to a malevolent flame Clay creatures scream sounds of torment Lives lost engorged, by inanimate material This endless expanse shadows upon an ever-present barrier Unrecognizable isolation lies beyond his horrid domain Another one has been chosen Another subservient sacrifice to satisfy the sculptor Unable to retreat, unwilling to surrender Scattered minions know my fate In his design, to be molded by the maker I am losing myself and my individuality Becoming one in this world, sown with hate Baptism of clay Buried under new existence This world's twisted master has chosen a sacrifice of subservience