| What is to be of this pestilience
|
| That makes empires tumble like tears
|
| The dust of millenia, fallen ages
|
| Staunches the flow of dawning horizons
|
| Obscuring
|
| While the days crumble as their hours unfold
|
| A sensual swooning, prophetic mocking
|
| As the soils swallow the seeds of the past
|
| Each one of us to his own
|
| Embrace
|
| Drowning in hallowed solitude
|
| Swallowing the void
|
| The pallid hope revealed at last
|
| Embrace
|
| Why should I fret in microcosmic bonds
|
| That chafe the spirit and the mind repress
|
| When through the clouds gleam beckoning beyonds
|
| Whose shining vistas mock man’s littleness?
|
| Throw off those shackles of sufferance
|
| This penance of one thousand ordeals
|
| I wield the scepter of destiny
|
| Choose the means of my own death
|
| Give me both nails and a hammer
|
| Harness those ecstasies of death
|
| Prostrate myself on cruciform
|
| At last
|
| With swift feet I made my way
|
| Helmed by a cacophony of despair
|
| Deaf to the legacy of youthfullness
|
| And beauty and joy since pined away
|
| Yet now a rush falls upon my ears
|
| Of dripping, whispered words
|
| The hole of emptiness I pour through
|
| Unveils the caress from far beyond
|
| Now no longer can I ignore
|
| What goes before has gone again
|
| The silence of immorality
|
| Satisfied with this one fell step
|
| Plunge beneath the waters
|
| The freezing embrace of the goddess of death |