Now, at this time, I wonder how I arrived here where air smells solitude. This dense mist, my constant company in a trip to hunt my lost soul. This incesant coldness is what I feel among the waters immensity of an eternal sea of mist. I carry the burden of an entire life sailing slowly in a rotten wood boat which without wind goes direct to my own nightmares. Day and night follow each other with no difference madness takes possession of the very depths of my being. And I, on my knees, scream claiming for death. Even death is too far to answer. Oh! Hominis Spiritus, you who search since your origin… Oh! Maligne Spiritus, your blind eyes are sealed… Oh! Allow us to offer an encounter with yourself and you´ll see that your body was forged not in mud but in the weak and hungry maggot flesh. Oh! Gods of hell, you who observe merciless our weak essence. As a febrish death rattle in the hurricane our life means nothig in your Cosmos. Although I savoured a piece of eternity I am only a man hunting his lost soul. And in the midle of the sea my pale skin reminds me once more that everything is faded with time. And now I know that, although I am a prisoner of the mist in any moment blood will rise, desired and sweet Death will not allow me to continue drowning in my own misery.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
