A march through the truth,
when everything is black,
when everything is pure...
Swallow the venom and crush blasphemies.
Sacrifice the soul,
let the flesh be used as a tool.
Pull up some limbs of your mind;
For the wounds will be healed with time.
Behold the quintessence
in the eyes of the children.
Behold in their deserted look
the altar of inverted life.
I'm cursed for I can't imagine the greatness.
I'm cursed for I can't take part enough in the whole process.
But the will is in me forever,
and my eyes are washed and see.
Those sights are a gift
and the proof of the truth.
No other way than bend myself
when shine the sword of perfection.
Reflect on the past time...
Distant visions of past life...
With a mailicious smile to the mouth I laugh
and just slay the works of goodness!
I will never deserve those sights.
I will never bear thy light.
But I have no doubt in faith.
And my being is but a mirror lighting the world.
