Prophecies Of The Dying - Part II

Here all alone I sow the seeds of sadness

for only me to reap

For the ache I fell in my heart is far too strong

for any man to bear.

Moonlight drank the tears of my grieving sorrow

and for those who cursed me on my path beyond sanity

They all became my shadow...

For I entered their hearts like the serpent entered paradise..

The smell of flowers dead witnessing the birth of my death

My body covered by black flies tearing my soul apart...

Cursed by harsh words spitting from a cleft tongue

Hurts like mad dogs tearing at my flesh.

Bleeding memories so painful to remember that I cannot rest

Flowing like a dark river of sin...

O'how I try to be among them all

But I'm so afraid

For I have seen what their eyes cannot see...

Innocence ripped away at the proclaim of its birth

All human dignity has been torn away

- Their stinking breath

and their need of playing the role performing (their) lifeless

acts in honour of their worthless god...

I am waiting for the day

when the sun will burn our selfish dreams to ashes grey

Only then will we see what we all have become...

Passionate dreams...

Driven by despair - Do I live in death?

Your feeble cries echo like sweet music in my ears

A tragic symphony where I find pleasure...

I will cleanse your soul with my blood so that all loveless

beauty may wither

With me...

What is this touch of a nocturnal sphere I feel caressing me?

I wear your hidden shadow wherever I may wander...

I bear the mask of the face of death

A dark reflection of what is surrounding us

But still they spit me in the face

and curse the ground on which I walk,

pouring salt into my wounds -A plague never ending

I turn and walk away

with bitter tears in my eyes...

Now this mighty beast has awakened.

Troubled waters, once of purest innocence, to wash over the land.

Rivers of madness - boiling with blood

- Hatred and poison to nourish the ground.

None shall survive, in floods of sin we drown...

Then, with the pride we throw away their masks of beauty

The painful writings in the skin so pale

telling us they suffer the same wounds as we do...

This love never dies