[Verse 1]
In the endless black, where no mind dares to go,
The moth stirs in shadows, where horrors still grow.
His wings glint in twilight, in dark circuits entwined,
A cybernetic god, lost beyond time.
Immortal, deranged, and drunk on decay,
He twists threads of life, then rips them away.
In his pulsing lab, where nightmares take shape,
He fashions grotesque beings that can’t escape.
Creation is madness in his mechanical claws,
Born from the void, bound to its laws.
[Pre-Chorus]
He whispers to the stars, they shudder and break,
In his hands, universes tremble and quake.
No mercy, no balance—just chaos’s kiss,
For he reigns supreme in this shadowed abyss.
[Chorus]
The moth in the dark, unraveling it all,
A puppet master of horrors where shadows crawl.
He weaves life from the void and tears it apart,
No mercy in his hand, no pulse in his heart.
Endless destruction, where madness runs deep,
In his lab of creation, nightmares never sleep.
[Verse 2]
Through the fabric of space, his claws slice and tear,
A harbinger of ruin, a god of despair.
His wings pulse with power, the void hums with dread,
As he stitches new creatures, then leaves them for dead.
Each twisted creation rises, gasping for air,
Before crumbling to dust, dissolving in despair.
He watches them fall, each one more grotesque,
His laughter a void, both hollow and bleak.
In his lab, light flickers, but the darkness prevails,
Each pulse of creation another that fails.
[Pre-Chorus]
He’s the master of chaos, the god of the doomed,
Where all things decay, and nightmares bloom.
In the void of his mind, there’s only one law:
To break what is made, with cold, ruthless claws.
[Chorus]
The moth in the dark, unraveling it all,
A puppet master of horrors where shadows crawl.
He weaves life from the void and tears it apart,
No mercy in his hand, no pulse in his heart.
Endless destruction, where madness runs deep,
In his lab of creation, nightmares never sleep.
[Bridge]
The stars he once lit now crumble to dust,
For in his immortal hands, there’s only distrust.
He plays with their fates like toys made of ash,
Then grinds them to pieces in one final crash.
The old gods quake in their cosmic domains,
For the moth twists their fabric, and nothing remains.
No sanity left in his infinite reign,
He rules over shadows, enslaved to his pain.
He drinks from the void, and darkness is fed,
Each creation a dream that soon winds up dead.
[Chorus]
The moth in the dark, unraveling it all,
A puppet master of horrors where shadows crawl.
He weaves life from the void and tears it apart,
No mercy in his hand, no pulse in his heart.
Endless destruction, where madness runs deep,
In his lab of creation, nightmares never sleep.
[Outro]
In the pulsing abyss, where horrors reside,
He tears through creation with madness as his guide.
No end to his reign, no stopping his hand,
The moth of the void, crafting worlds from the damned.
In the depths of his lab, where light flickers and bends,
He twists life to nothing, for nothing ascends.
The moth forever toils, unbound by his fate,
In a universe of madness, both hollow and great.
