Hermit Age

A Grant to te Wind

Hermit Age


Through the dimensional 
Confusion of survive 
I drink what remains 
Of the autumn of life 
Sleeping lives by the moon's lullaby 
A grant to the wind 

I am the sand that flies in the wet wind 
Through sorrows of midnight 
Where life gets weak 
Transforming necks into chalices 
Which are used only one time 
Time when god bleeds 
And the ashes of the moon 
Break through our veins 

I am the nightfall 
Drying flesh thirsty for blood 
I am the one that never existed 
And had never died 
Cry for me 
Your abomination is my pleasure 
Red tears 
Empty of life 

I am the vortex of the evil and the good 
The darkness light that darken the soul 
That once had lived 
Through kisses and tears 
Where furious eyes cry out 
For peace and tranquility 
The resting of the tired 
And the crash of the reality 

Crystalized words in 
Most transparent ice 
The eternal that dies 
In the weeping of the stars 

And waits to the end of the eternal 
A grant to the wind