Yoth Iria
Tyrants
They are nine
Like the circles of Hell
They are all
Like ether in the fog
They crawl and form
In the shadows they dwell

They harness dreams
And strangle souls
They know the truth
And preach the Lie
They are blind
But through the worm they see

They breath sulfur
And forge pain
They feast on tears
And desolation
Infernal dukes
Breeders of sorrow

They move the sun
They light the moon
They keep their blood
In sacred vaults
They weave the web
Of darkness
Tyrants
Vultures of the worlds beyond
Tyrants
Masters of the Crimson Whore