Carach Angren-The Shining Was a Portent of Gloom

Lyrics: A black shape sits on a deck in a red glistening puddle, sobbing and shaking, curled up in a huddle. The shape of a man amidst silence and slaughter, clothes torn and drenched in blood and salt water. “His fortune to dust, his fortune to dust! His triumph in vain, his triumph in vain! Riches to ashes! His tears lost in rain!“