In the night of my final sacrifice I sent my soul Into the vast and fathomless unknown to find a word A word, that indicates the beyond. It came back later and spoke: "I am myself heaven and hell!"
Sculptured in time as another chapter of life Sharp are the thorns of the roses, which lay dank upon me For too long I knew that I had to arrive Yet destination isn't as linear as humanity
Touch the feeling - touch the soul Touch the morning dew and see the glamour In my stark eyes reflecting The icon of a setting in a serene summer
So many flowers give away to mystery and loneliness Their subtile perfume and their indifference So much jewelry's forgotten in the soil, in darkness Deepened in eternal sleep, where nothing breeds weakness
But who dares to tread the silent meadows That lie beyond the mirror of one's self? Who dares to reach the fanthoms of one's heart To behold the murderer of life and art?
And what is death? What gives birth? What sells good or has no worth, when everything you feel is cold?
Why am I? Who's this hand? Whose decisions I can't comprehend... But isn't history foretold?
There's a tide..in the affairs of men Which, taken of it's flood, leads on to fortune But all the voyage of their life Is bound in shallows and miseries...
Oh, didn't light prove the dark? Didn't distress prove life, With it's seasons all hallowed?
But if you desire to see the light... As it truly is, clear and bright You must move - back into the shadows
"There's as much difference between me and myself As between me and the vassals of time But, however, life continues it's sculptures Like poetry without rime..."
We both exist and do know that we exist and Rejoice in this existence and this knowledge...Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
