Suffocated and surrounded
by hopelessness the crying man
ends his short life. How can it be
that vacuum has the power to pierce someone?
As if it was matter
As if it was a bullet,
and not despair, that which
perforated his body.
At the moment the wound was open
the last lamentation of the man had not ceased.
Thus through the fleshly gate his spirit was spilled.
Not pineal where the anima comes extense,
but the wound.
The reverb of the haunting cry echoes through the walls.
Ghosts dwell in the surreptitious tremors of the world.
One often hears the pain of the dead and wants to cry
is it me who suffers, or have ghosts take hold of me?
Sustained lamentation...
Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa. |
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