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lyrics

The pages burn with the oxygen that you inhale
It extinguishes the fragile fire that offers this flame
Long hours or ephemeral centuries remain ahead
the exile will be eternal or fleeting the sigh ...

The pages are still written with the ink that you spill
The clove are spread on the timber that you venerate
They wait with flesh and bone be mixed, to see the wood split
And you as martyr exhibiting your obscene humanity.

Fanfares are usually lacking in the place where you intend to go
they usually hide the reasons for the spilled blood
blood that under the same sky those cloves have corroded
and the wicked, sinners, has drowned ...

Tell me, answer me, now and forever if you have understood,
If you have corroborated it in flesh
How many spots you have on your skin in the name of thousands of names,
How many brands endowed with the indelible ink of time,
donated by those who perished for those many names ...
Tell me, answer me, now and for eternity if you've seen it
if your eyes have illuminated reflecting that image,
unique and valuable revealing image of why ...

Be dazzled now that you can see ...
Now that you finally try to see ...
with the last sigh of the flame
with the last line of your farce

Fanfares are usually lacking in the place where you intend to go
they usually hide the reasons for the spilled blood.

credits

from Through The Entrails Of Darkness​.​.​. To The Cosmic Awakening, released May 17, 2018
Screams: Confetior Atratus (Funeral Noise Terror)

license

all rights reserved

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