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Inhale The Ghost-mist Of The Distressed Disease

Nauseant


A ghost fog sweeps across the lands,
A vicious see-through mist of death.
You can see it from afar,
But when it gets closer,
Your eye gets blinded and unable to make through the gloom.

And when it's all around you,
You inhale the cold, wet fog,
And the god of disease hits you.
Like an implosion in your torso.
The fogs invisible spores spreads in your vains.

Through your blood it multiplies and flow from your chest to your head,
Corrupting your mind and disables your senses.
And in a great confusion you vomit up your bowels.
With an massive, abhorrent pain you feel it loosen its grip in your belly,
And slowly climb up through your throat,with the taste of cold bloody guts.

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