Withered senses like the dead flowers
Apathy for life in material world
The perception of truth through pain is inevitable
Through the long years, passing the thorny ways
Returning to the initial point
To the archetype of the shadow of my essence
The time yet has not come to open wide the eyes
To release the restless forgotten spirit
From behind the mask of goodessence
Bringing legitimate evil, pure hatred
Let the false human morality sink in the bog…
What is beyond space and time
What is eternity and the absolute
What cannot be perceived by the mind
What brings no happiness
What is called
What cannot die…
