| Eternal suffering.
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| Everlasting oblivion of tears falling into the dust.
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| I want to die.
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| But the three mothers don’t grip my hand
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| they want the cycle to be completed.
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| I’m walking through this autumnal mist
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| where everything dies
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| and where everything’s anguish and loneliness.
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| I mortify my heart with love’s pain
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| and fall into the hollow deep abyss.
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| I’m alone in the dark
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| my being transfixed by a circle of shining souls
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| but their laments can nothing against frost
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| hate and the macabre veil winding my soul
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| in an obscure seal.
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| I would shed blood but something’s hindering that to me which dark force gives my spirit strength
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| thou condemned to wander in this mist thick as pain
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| I’m alone in Mater Tenebra.
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| Amen.
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| I enjoy this event. |
| I son of darkness drink my tears
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| from the calix of the god who never forsakes
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| who turns defeat into victory.
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| I raise my hands up towards the northern icy wind
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| and to the nothing I yell.
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| Th at vision is mild and pure wrapped into the torments wind
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| I stretch out my hand but everything disappears
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| so I close the circle of fire once more
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| and I find myself again alone in the dark.
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| I celebrate the ancient names of this pagan winter
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| looking for lymph and power
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| for his soul now I’ve lost into emptiness.
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| Lost in Mater Tenebra.
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| Satan’s masses mutate the weak.
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| back to top. |