Nigthmare

Nigthmare

The Holy Holt:

The end is near! Time nears the end:

the utmost foe is dead!

Consume his flesh and sip his blood.

Belch then: 'time nears the end...'

From furtive hole his blood shed forth -

none cares of misty source

of shady wood with its foliage-streams

rush rolling forth the vaults

Caym:

Our utmost foe is to be gone to rack and ruin!

Now - we'll destroy his path has been created

in such devious way!

We'll shred apart array

of his false prophets led our flock astray!

The Holy Holt:

How should they know?

Caym:

Destroy them! Destroy them!

The Holy Holt:

Time nears the end!

Caym:

Their scripts proved to be utterly crooked!

The Holy Holt:

They will clear away all your memories!

They will confound your limbs with deadly disease!

Only they will march with you hand in hand

to derail your dreams -

behold them nearing the end!

The end is near! Decline appeared

to reign obliquely among the kings!

Caym:

But to no avail! It's not e'en insane and sick -

dead on the contrary.

Its head is nowhere to be found -

it even cannot speak so gear it up as horse!

Oze:

To be exact its corpse!

And if you please exert yourself to ride this trunk!

The Holy Holt:

Our GOD prefers to dwell among the ruins

thus he does reveal his orifice obliquely!

Dilapidated mill shows no arrogance;

We will make up our mind

to be akin those sacred trees!

To dwell in silent grove!

Amid the trees with shining leaves and fruits!

Admire this sacred grove!

Make up your mind

to be as complaisant as you can!

Caym:

Oh please avoid imprudent wishes

to know the way our savior rose to be reborn!

The Holy Holt:

We are not daunted by such distance!

We'll ride our horses toward clouds

in defiance of roaring storm!

Caym:

All alone!

From ruin tomb in a forgotten land

seen through the eyes of the dead!

The Holy Holt:

All alone!

From ruin tomb in a forgotten land...

Caacrinolaas:

So there is nothing for it but to do your best

to be dead!

Peter:

How shall I be...

My demon, show me the way!

How shall I turn to dust...

My demon,

show me the way I can abet your swarm

The Holy Holt:

Time nears the end!

Time nears the end!

He has done this alone; all alone!

From a ruin tomb in a forgotten land.

He'll ne'er be dead!

Oze:

All alone he escaped myriad

of those spluttering saints!

He left them all not resentful but dead!

All alone he came softly up behind -

no one sow,

no one heard gloating over the senseless corpse...

He has done this alone; all alone!

Fallen one leaves no victim undone!

But no one ever knows

how did he strive showing to demons their ways!

Strove to survive for, there was so much at stake!

Time nears the end! Time nears the end!

Caacrinolaas:

Deep down thy art thou goest,

painting thy dauby picture

looks like hell but does the same not a dreg!

For prancing w-horse of yours,

only ill-gotten creatures,

so they ought to be ill-spent!

(so they say in either case)

Shine on brighter than the sun anon

chasing your hoax-horizons,

denizens of boggy path you've searched for,

meant not to be led astray in anyway...

Never...

Oze:

Never... never...

The Holy Holt:

He found his way into his kingdom

Caym:

As one would expect -

he's left the gloomy wood for grove!

The Holy Holt:

He found his way into the heaven!

Again we have got our lord in his place high above!

All alone!

From ruin tomb in a forgotten land

seen through the eyes of the dead!

All alone!

From ruin tomb in a forgotten land

you came so gloriously to be (dead) the only One!

Caacrinolaas:

For, fallen angels leave no victims;

no their remains e'en:

thus appear the hand of fallen one

...to turn his concubine into the ruins

and reign and rule among the ruins he has done!

The Holy Holt entering Sacred Grove:

We have done this alone; all alone!

Caym:

...through the sweet Eucharist of these trees!

Brothers do taste their gifts!

The Holy Holt:

Holy oaks!

You've been meant by our lord for us -

like sacred trees.

Give us your life with wisdom of yours!

It is not to be wondered at that

we are to become inaccessible for deadly curse!

We shall win!

With the acorn of life and religion inside

of our belly -

thus inside our mind!

Caym:

Have we possessed! We'll glorify all your ways!

Caacrinolaas:

And all his oaks (you nothing daunted possessed)!

Time nears the end! Time nears the end!