...yes, i feel the wine now
pouring through a sadness i created
filling all in it's swarm embrace
the one i've learned to love instead of hate

...so, here you are again old friend
speaking to my my soul with your shinning hands
beneath solitude
in the middle of pain
beneath amethyst gates
gates of grief, gates of pain

in the middle of a smile i still cannot comprehend
a joyless smile
which i know set filght too soon

...yes, you should poison my hearth
more than it's envenomed right now
and lead it to those landscapes you sometimes show
those horrific lands impregned of incense
and the distant feeling of a hopeless love

those joyless lands
those smiles of pain
those timeless griefs without beggining or end

...so, tell me old friend
when will the gates get closed behind us?
the amethyst will be ours
an the grief and the pain will be at last in our hands

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