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"There are moments in death |
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where events transcend the expected |
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and can transform the very foundations |
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of our existence. |
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Where death flees the ones |
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who seek most to embrace it |
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only to return in another form, |
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so familiar to us all..." |
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A table set for two |
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The candles lit for one |
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In a reunion of the two |
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Drawn apart at the dawn when all life begun |
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Waking restless to dead hours |
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The world now feels a different place |
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Upon the fields of burning flowers |
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(lie) the monuments of our disgrace |
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The breaking down of old ideals |
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and fears too monstrous to be spoken of |
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And the crumbling of old laws |
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once thought that never could be broken |
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Broken down - and buried unto unshallow ground |
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Left are only broken beings |
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Souls merely filled with emptiness |
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Burning on the grips of an everlasting, |
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Ever-tightening cold caress |
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Caressed, unblessed to a morbid life in death |
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In a world where each breath is both mute and suppressed |
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Stealing empires from serpents no more |
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As our eleventh hour has struck twelve |
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After vain glories and false purgatories |
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We are left only with ourselves |
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I watch the world now turn as if it were the same |
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Beneath starplunging rain, under nightmares we crawl |
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Where all is lost and nothing gained |
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But a harsh newfound death now living deep within us all... |
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Where all is but a dream, a dream and yet so real |
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Within our Hell concealed, by this unlife reclaimed |
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I watch entire worlds fade away only to return the same... |
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A whole world once cut in two |
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Now entwined as one |
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And with breath we inhale |
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We both live and become undone... |
