Bereavement: A Multitude In Martyrized Flesh

Se-woo, ha-nah e-too-hee pagh-ri

Han-noo dim-mi, d'dia-tee-qeh kha-tha

Forgive me not Father

Cause I never blasphemed in opposition to your word

But it’s only against the human’s blind laws

That I proudly… Sin

Crucify! Crucify! With the rusty nails of mortals

You bury divine flesh down below

And yet this place still whispers ceremonial litanies

A transcendental plague

A river of incense cross a forgotten soil

It flows into the vast, sad oceans that you mourn

And nothing is observed and assumed down there

If not the first commandment of the soul

Do Sin! Do Sin! This dusk lies beneath a fractured mirror of sins

The moon and the sun will then emerge from the earth

To sanctify the one who blaspheme

Do Sin! And it snows deep down again

Bright stars falling fast in a spiral of Sin

And the sky became a vault

And what human’s vileness has set as a weak limit

Was crossed with a wearing, horrible idea of pain

Shining incarnation, a desolate death

In wise and gentle solitude compliance turns to dust

Resounding in the echoes of stillness

A new creator feeds its limbs