In the night of my final sacrifice I sent my soul
Into the vast and fathomless unknown to find a word
A word, that indicates
It came back later and spoke:
"I am myself heaven and hell!"
Sculptured in time as another chapter of
Sharp are the thorns of the roses, which lay dank upon me
For too long I knew that I had to arrive
Yet destination isn't as
linear as humanity
Touch the feeling - touch the soul
Touch the morning dew and see the glamour
In my stark eyes
The icon of a setting in a serene summer
So many flowers give away to mystery and loneliness
Their subtle perfume and
So much jewelry's forgotten in the soil, in darkness
But who dares to tread the silent meadows
beyond the mirror of one's self?
Who dares to reach the phantoms of one's heart?
To behold the murderer of life and art?
What gives birth?
What sells good or has no worth,
When everything you feel is cold?
Why am I? Who's this
Whose decisions I can't comprehend...
But isn't history foretold?
There's a tide... in the affairs of men
of it's flood, leads on to fortune
But all the voyage of their life
Is bound in shallows and miseries...
But if you desire to
see the light...
As it truly is, clear and bright
You must move - back into the shadows