Exiled from the so called sane,
Dwelling in some moisted cave,
In some place that means despair,
Where the mortals fear to approach...
And there, through an ugly candlelight
At first you could see a black formless shape
And then an abomination freezing your blood
In the realm of decayed flesh, you'll have to stay...

And in the few weeks after, among the human carriows
Moribunds wait their turn, to join the stench of mass grave