Sold Soul - Damned (Single) (2019)

[Introduction]

We descend into this perdition of the tainted.
Witness the souls all lined in their rows of anguish.
The nine circles hold captive all those who've sealed their fates.

Crawling within these chambers of punishment.
The souls of the damned; of those who have sinned, all writhe in pain.

[Circle One: Limbo]
(Andrew Patterson of And Hell Followed With)

Gloom.
Wither in this bleak abyss.

Walk amongst men whose souls are not damned, but empty.
Hollow mortals. They're locked in this purgatory.
Forced to endure unending despair and darkness.
It consumes their mind. They long for their death, but have it.

Lost in this sea of grey, bereft of happiness.
Bodies left to decay, in this oblivion.
Wandering aimlessly, yet thou wont find thine way.
Weary minds know that there is no rest for the dead.

[Circle Two: Lust]
(William Ramos of Monument of a Memory)

Battered by the violent winds of lust.
Personify the lamb, for the wake of light ignites the carnal malefactors as they walk this land.
Everlasting blight amongst the sinful mass.

Punishment for those who crave the flesh of man.
Repentance, no option for the damned.
Lechery, the force that binds you to your sins.
Misery, encompass them as they drift away.

A bond broken by their unending desire to defile every mound of human flesh.

Predatory carnality.
Straying far from divinity.
Predatory carnality.
Reprobation of thine flesh greed.

Hearken this everlasting storm, a never-ending war, upon the defilers of flesh and blood. (x2)

Flesh and blood.
The desires of man, forged from their primal ties.
Flesh and blood.
Thus absolved from their sins, cursed rains fall upon their backs.
Flesh and blood.
They are void of pleasure, the curse of their lust is flushed forth from the earth.

[Circle Three: Gluttony]
(Kyler Cheek of The Stygian Complex)

Churn in the putrid slush.
The isles of gluttony serve as the evidence, of mankind's ungodly filth and their indulgence.
All forced to forever drown in this pestilence.

Pelted by icy rains.
Serving the mighty worm.
"Three-headed beast of Hell, maim these mortals!"

Ravenously shredding gluttons, thrashing in the freezing mire.
Haunted by their self-indulgence.
Forcefully, they serve the worm.

Putrefaction, it encumbers.
Insurmountable pain and torment.
Groveling in grit and grime for their voracious appetites.

Ceaseless gluttony.
No room on earth for you.
Ceaseless gluttony.

[Circle Four: Greed]

Avaricious souls tainted by their greed.
Endless pursuits of wealth and material gain.
Divided between hoarders of their possessions, and those who empty their pockets as they lavishly spend.

[Circle Five: Anger]
(Matt Watkins of Vicar Amelia)

Wrathful creatures dwell within the boiling rivers of Hell.
They, consumed by hatred and rage have found their resting place.

Viciously combating the current, those who lived their hate.
These angered souls are forced to drown in the waters, gurgling Stygian marsh.
Just as their hatred choked, the waters of Styx floods into their throats.
Withdrawn into a black sulkiness where they shall find no hope.

Wrath.

Rend and snarl.
Spiteful souls thrash and claw each other whole.
Corrupted by their rage, thine hearts beat as black as coal.

Misery unending.
Savage tendencies grab hold of their hearts, of their minds.
Their eyes glossed as they turn cold.

The last circle of incontinence holds these self-frustrated profligates.
Outward, their pain and their torment inflicted on each other as they give in to-
their animalistic urges. So blood red, so furious and evil.
The earth would've quaked at their fury if they weren't dragged into the inferno.

[Transition into the Lower Circles]

Into the City of Dis.
Surrounded by the primordial waves, holding the lower circles of Hell.
Your eyes meet those of furies guarding these bowels.

Descend into these lower circles so you may see the most daunting of the sins.
The true root of evil witnessed here shall taint even the purest of men.

[Circle Six: Heresy]
(Ben Mesler of Angry Reacts Only)

Foolishness, blasphemy.
A fiery tomb awaits those who don’t believe.
Burning in cinder and ash are the souls of heretics.

Turned their backs on their spirits, so they're trapped inside these walls.
These flames burning their truth, cleansing the unfaithful.

Their charred remains mean nothing. (Mean nothing to me)

Bow to your god, bow to your wretched creator.

Bow.

[Circle Seven: Violence]

Past the taurus.
Ruins shroud the three rings, brought forth by the demise of Christ.
The three houses of violence enduring the harrowing of this Hell.

House One: Violence against thy neighbor.
Tyrants, war-makers, and murderers.
Immersed in phlegethon, the river of boiling blood and fire.

They wallowed in blood during their life, now do so eternally inside of Hell.
Forced under the boiling brim by serpents at the call of Chiron and Pholus.

(House Two: Violence against thyself.)
In the wood of suicides, dead souls are transformed into gnarled trees and fed upon by the harpies.
Thralls, they wrought self-inflicted pain.

House Three: Violence against nature.
A plain of burning sand scorched by great flakes of flame. So thus, these squanderers are torched by the embers of divine justice.

[Circle Eight: Fraud]

Upon the back of Geryon.
We descend into Malebolge; the arena of fraud.

They will burn so deep in the chasm of this light.

Panderers and seducers are whipped by horned demons.
They exploited the passions of others and at core, are scourged.

Flatterers fight covered in excrement, as the soles of simoniacs feet burn with brimstone.

The souls of sorcerers, fortune tellers, false prophets unite with their heads twisted and contorted by demonic plague.

Corrupt politicians immersed in boiling tar.
Hypocrites forced to walk with the weight of leaden robes.
Thieves writhe in a pit of reptilian creatures, biting and clawing.
Sowers of discord flayed by beasts.
Falsifiers afflicted by disease.

Yet, we descend into treachery.

[Circle Nine: Treachery]
(Greg Gilbert of Shrine of Malice)

Chained from my waist.
Fate emerges, blanketing me in the depths.

In Judecca, waiting for death at the bottom of this tomb.

You betray me, bastard cowards.
Dying creatures.
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