Through The Eyes Of The Dead

Autumn Tint Of Gold

Beneath Dying Skies

Between The Gardens That Bathe In Blood

Bringer Of Truth

Force Fed Trauma

Forever Ends Today

The Black Death And Its Aftermath

To Take Comfort (In Yesterday’s Scars)

Truest Shade Of Crimson

Two Inches From A Main Artery

When Everything Becomes Nothing

With Eyes Ever Turned Inward