|
Hollowed by the pain, |
|
I feel the rage coming in |
|
Suffocating waves. |
|
As a wreck in the streams of my bloodied kin's blood, |
|
I dreamt of timessaturnine when the festring might |
|
Enflamed our hearts to the point where the lacerating |
|
Was a joy... |
|
It was a joy! |
|
And then, whenthe Vision's gone |
|
And Death's unformed, |
|
I am torn. |
|
Our eyes are enslaved by the sight of the pyres, |
|
Cast under the yoke of our own death. |
|
Uttermost the drugs that have led us thus far |
|
The eyes, the poison, the vision, the might, |
|
But still we dont probe the silence. |
|
Here I am rolled and rolled by the stream. |
|
The state of foam, |
|
The moaning of the winds. |
|
Over |
|
The |
|
Cracked roads, |
|
Through the reeds |
|
Of the |
|
marches, |
|
Hollow voices |
|
blow |
|
And the leaves |
|
Bow down |
|
to |
|
Other masters. |
