Sensuality of the immortality
in the dimension of laments
with the extreme anxieties of a third eye
showing a lost paradise...
We lie in the cosmic tomb
Awaiting the day of liberation
Searching the unreal past
when the breeze echoes in my face
I'll enter in my mind
As I'll gather illusions
not loosing the purest hate,
but the shining hope
...the shining hope...
Triangular atmosphere
structured by my fears
the icosahedron day of phases
formulate the reborn of my existence
(as) I see the sun
with the cover frost,
the cosmos within.
This is the open road,
with pain and mourn
the eternal pale moonlight
touch my morbid curiosity
I'm the cosmos as I'm my self
surrounded by the hypocrisy
and I've tasted the bitter dust
and my heart lies therein...