Prophecies Of The Dying – Part II
(Indisponível)
Here all alone I sow the seeds of sadness
for only me to reap
For the ache I fell in my heart is far too strong
for any man to bear.
Moonlight drank the tears of my grieving sorrow
and for those who cursed me on my path beyond sanity
They all became my shadow...
For I entered their hearts like the serpent entered paradise..
The smell of flowers dead witnessing the birth of my death
My body covered by black flies tearing my soul apart...
Cursed by harsh words spitting from a cleft tongue
Hurts like mad dogs tearing at my flesh.
Bleeding memories so painful to remember that I cannot rest
Flowing like a dark river of sin...
O'how I try to be among them all
But I'm so afraid
For I have seen what their eyes cannot see...
Innocence ripped away at the proclaim of its birth
All human dignity has been torn away
- Their stinking breath
and their need of playing the role performing (their) lifeless
acts in honour of their worthless god...
I am waiting for the day
when the sun will burn our selfish dreams to ashes grey
Only then will we see what we all have become...
Passionate dreams...
Driven by despair – Do I live in death?
Your feeble cries echo like sweet music in my ears
A tragic symphony where I find pleasure...
I will cleanse your soul with my blood so that all loveless
beauty may wither
With me...
What is this touch of a nocturnal sphere I feel caressing me?
I wear your hidden shadow wherever I may wander...
I bear the mask of the face of death
A dark reflection of what is surrounding us
But still they spit me in the face
and curse the ground on which I walk,
pouring salt into my wounds -A plague never ending
I turn and walk away
with bitter tears in my eyes...
Now this mighty beast has awakened.
Troubled waters, once of purest innocence, to wash over the land.
Rivers of madness – boiling with blood
- Hatred and poison to nourish the ground.
None shall survive, in floods of sin we drown...
Then, with the pride we throw away their masks of beauty
The painful writings in the skin so pale
telling us they suffer the same wounds as we do...
This love never dies
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