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Sometimes images of a sad void |
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fill the thoughts and the soul |
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The only feeling of a gate for relief is |
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a key that you call death |
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Tortured by life and past |
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My sorrow is the key to some dimensions |
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I once knew but without never |
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reaching them |
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The grey weather cry, sad and dark |
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The somberness of Satan |
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The moisted walls of years belch |
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the spirit of death |
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So bad there |
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Tears burn my eyes |
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The key to my melancholy is no relief |
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I wish I'll never see the light |
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Existence is the remeberance |
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of a dark past |
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Rain of tears stains the castle |
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Bloodred clouds under the sky |
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Caves of stones with water drops |
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Icy fingers of Evil |
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By this sunday night of september |
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as the rain stops to flow |
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I shall end my life there and maybe |
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open the gate |
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The eternal circle of beings and thoughts |
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is ending with death |
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But to take another form |
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which still haunt beyond |
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I enter |
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Magical shadows surrounds me |
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as I'm leaving from this world |
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Tragic memories remains |
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as I enter the dead's realm |
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The grim walls vomit the memories |
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of a sad and Evil past |
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The glaucous and gloomy soul |
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is torn in a tormented eternity |
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Eternal... |
