| Penetrate deep into my pain
|
| Clandestine and silent, yet never to subside
|
| A curse that wears no face or disguise
|
| Behold the heavens lustrous that my contempt arouse
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| Still I covet one thousand eyes to possess
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| When the dusk paints the perfection most complete
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| So hasten I to beset what’s left of the light
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| In the grace of obscurity to empower my sight
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| … to seek what’s seemingly never to be found
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| Why hast thou broken my wings?
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| Didst thou see peril in me?
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| Accusing me for perfidious acts
|
| Was thine utmost stupidity
|
| For those were only ambitions
|
| A greater sovereign than thou to be
|
| So, betrayal thou didst promulgate
|
| For the fear of dethronement made thee elate:
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| «Begone, wretched creature of pride!
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| In the burning arms of oblivion be forever lulled!»
|
| Yet thy sentence I accepted with mockery:
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| «Who art thou to sit in judgement upon me?
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| How spiteful soever thy words would be
|
| I bow to none, so shall I not before thee!»
|
| Then the curse was cast
|
| And I’d fallen aghast
|
| With my hordes wearing new grown horns
|
| Like black lace clad eerie shadows
|
| Into the everburning pits we descended
|
| Like a phantom spirit
|
| That breeds the eternal fire
|
| The flaming abyss and the secret it keeps
|
| Were there for me, a new home to be…
|
| Fleshless yet awake
|
| Shapeless and forsaken
|
| The Serpent of old I am
|
| Still pulsating in the depth
|
| Of this tragedy’s birth
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| With the «mercy of God» etched in my heart
|
| But even tortured by the lashes of million godly whips
|
| No word of penitence will ever pass my lips |