Walking on a broken glass of one's tortured soul
|
These shadows tell me of a pale forgotten age
|
Exploring new horizons of exhaustion
|
I lip my tongue, lip with bleeding thorns
|
|
And they do sparkle, they do shine
|
With a light of their own, a light you cannot see
|
I leather phantoms with a bloody cream
|
As they gently shriek...
|
|
Elemental rain covers all with tears
|
Exguisite fire burns up to the purple throne
|
I desired to be mine
|
|
Valleys of wonders i walked
|
And saw the child of light i savagely torn apart
|
Where would this path lead me to
|
And where wolud my craving end
|
|
Weird planets and no less strange encounters
|
Veiled as widow's mourning caress
|
Enchanting streams of madness... I feasted at, bathed in
|
Those of which i've been a teartained messiah
|
|
Seemingly equal axioms proved to be wrong
|
Thousands and thousands faces...
|
... yet no one real
|
|
Would you dare to believe me as you once
|
Believed yourself
|
Wolud you dare to know I mourn you
|
As I once mourned myself
|
|
Mourn you... you, my mind which is nor
|
No not anymore
|
Primal instincts, three scavengers of sorrow
|
Bewitching? oh no
|
|
Where do I head?
|
Some starnge place beyond the reach of imaginations
|
Imaginary hell?
|
|
Everything's possible, right after
|
Nothing took a place of me
|
I keep on travelling ever further
|
And further on
|
|
Further on into the upheaval
|
Of insanity
|
I rejoice and suffer... in this shivering prison shell
|
Oh what a poor triumph
|
|
Chaos out of oreder and order out ot chaos
|
What a stellar path for me bethroned with
|
Sister abstract
|
|
-----------------
|
Blind Eye And Muted Mind
|
Rossomahaar |