| Cold, frost beaten heart
|
| A chasm of chills
|
| Stone-mind
|
| Bleeds futile Dreams
|
| Steel-eyes
|
| Dull all these years
|
| Stagnation
|
| A wrecked man-child collapses into himself
|
| Just to emerge to a miserable conscious back again
|
| Stagnation…
|
| And the songs of reason subside
|
| Their voice-distant
|
| Deep within thy depths
|
| Dead within the deep
|
| A silent dirge Buried inside a human casket
|
| Crystallized
|
| Strike of strike
|
| Whip-tongue chastise
|
| Some strangle, some chain
|
| And other aim to burn
|
| Until every vein and bone are crystallized
|
| In the vast green garden where
|
| Tears and trees and fears grow
|
| I can be found between the pages
|
| Where the wind of fear blows
|
| In the bleak meadows of the past
|
| Pain and pebbles lie low
|
| There lies the answer to my daily demise
|
| And I celebrate a decade of disease
|
| 1000 steps lead straight to ethereal bliss
|
| And millions of trails lead
|
| To this hollow-graphic hard core
|
| Soul shredding masterpiece and none
|
| Could aid and nowhere to run
|
| Ashes
|
| To rise from the pyre
|
| Reconstruction
|
| Another lazarus engulfed by a blue fire
|
| To rebuild and from earth’s wonders
|
| Rejuvenate or remain scattered ashes
|
| Yet there comes a time
|
| When fleeting moments leave
|
| A tender mark on the skin
|
| And cut straight down your spine
|
| Maybe after all this is done
|
| And such horror-sickness will be gone
|
| I will get «myself» back to be «mine»…
|
| And we will claim ourselves
|
| From the dying sons |