End, the end of my doubts that led my way so much. The purity of my feelings that hide in itself. Im my god, my master who I trust, this is my black soul that survives forever. I dont escape out of these empty whiles, no, I dont want to see the funeral of my own I. And slowly burning flowers of sorrow, and to be drowning in a painful frost, my dissolving body. Ive got my own world where I live lonely, there I might find unknown voices I know. The only one whose competent to command me, thats me - Im my king and slave too. Neverending questions and trials (and tribulations), to , to be ruler of the horror, the prophet. I fumble in a nook of creation, wandering blind, than suddenly descry what I am born from. Shall gather gifts at my feet, I pick em up but throw them away. Why should I proclaim any one for me, I dont intend cause Im not the one who will redeem this world. I still open gates of my orchard, right there where my dreams flow. Whoeverd like to enter has to take this advice: among those fragrant flowers grow also the thorn-planted ones and which are they? only I know.
This lyric was posted anonymously. Not yet confirmed by Book of Metal.
