Quintrala (Redemption Melodies to Her Wild Nature)

And little Catrala has thrown her tears

For grandma's illness

Is against (her) huge caprice,

Avoiding the firceness

Of what a tiny girl feels

Outside stars are hiding their lights

Unfolding a dreadful darkness

Upon march of monks started

Missing a young and chaste princess

The empress of Night

Catalina has got the permission she needed

Her desires are torrents

Of madness concealed

That let pageant look at

The lights of shadows, thrilled.

The stars have reignited

In hands of the march

And an ebony Jesus walks bleeding

Our sinful pride,

Hiding his Sodom before Procession of Blood

"Ground turns red as blood take possession of

What a so called Holy Ghost (is) supposed to

Clean with pain, lighting with its soft pleasure a

Growing unknown hidden in deepest core of our

Childish empress"

Images are fluttering

In a vortex of chaos

Stealing sleep away from the child's nest

Ideas run through pathway

Leading to evilness pagedom…

The girl can feel every drop of blood

She sees it flowing

Through a self induced wound

Until she needs (to) turn this dream

Into a reality indeed

Silence is flirting with shadows noises

Letting Catrala's footsteps

To be their black roses

Leading her to the hope of the whip

With its easing sadness

The chapel is opened

For its miniature priestess

Now she discovers her immaculate skin

To altar's whisper

As the long wait reaches its end

"At last body and essence are consumed (in) red

Flames… Hands get skilled with every beat of

Self passion, turning whistles of whiplash into

A little girl Redemption melodies to her Wild Nature.."