My Dryness is infinite more and more I feel the solitude of roaming between The same old stones of my walls wich I know inside out yet can not leave Mournful is my immured existence in this withering fortress barricaded by Immense unfertile forests the woebegone winds that once were murmurs are Now endlessly assaulting my eaglenest in irritating howlings Waouuuuuuuaouuuuuwa seasons follow seasons bringing moroseness and Wrath only the sight of blood and sound of pain can make me laugh Someone else is knocking at my cyclopean door outside the red death kills The rich as well as the poor then in the leaden hours of the black night ! Contemplate a very old painting depicting a sunrise over my very mountains In flaming colours that I have once seen that I have once seen and Forgotten since long gone is the craftsman who could attend to the flashing Gold sky seeming to fucking ablaze the trees and set the whole planet on Fire the arson scene was hastily seized from the top of some old tower the Wolrd in flames for sure is the pyromaniac's last fire the world's been raped And killed and burnt yet still I am not dead I don't really know where I'm But there it's me the head is it real or is it all just happening in my mind Standing on the ashes of what used to be my kindTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
