The wind cast a ruin upon my soul.
The night is dying, yet we cursed the dawn, each mourning, upon a festering grave.
The moonlight has no shine through the doom.
The burning corpse of god shall keep us warm in the doom of howling winds
The Intercept | 25 Jun 2019
The Independent | 25 Jun 2019
WorldNews.com | 25 Jun 2019
Yahoo Daily News | 26 Jun 2019