|
The desertic summer fades, the black curtains opens on a depressive autumn. |
|
The ground gave rotten fruits this season. |
|
The black wings of melancholy above the superstitious mortals. |
|
The dogs bark at the moon, children wake at night. |
|
Since the appearance of those weird black eggs, |
|
No chance for an exorcism in this place forgotten by god |
|
Some of them speak of witchcraft but no scapegoat to crucify. |
|
Peasants in starvation and fear, epidemics over animals. |
|
Each day opens on new victims, cursed by a strange evil. |
|
No one to bless the funeral, the priest was buried one week ago. |
|
Fields are changing to mass graves. |
|
People dwell in the church which has turned weird and dark. |
|
Ignoring the chapel is the nest, they get close to |
|
Evil. Curse spreads over the villages around as a magnetic wave of sadness. |
|
The wind carries the carrion's stench, the eggs of melancholy. |
