Black smoke from the bowels of the earth, Skies are bleeding, Red spots on the bright snow Remains a monument Wishes at light, sweet work of torture Matter of not seeing pain and suffering as an end They feel like the beginning and not as a sad end What once was will never be the same Show that you are more than flesh I will expose the divine and the pain Call the sin of the human Sweat that drips, immersed in the currents of my life to live again Where the empire of man is made dust And its history only shows weakness A memory through loneliness Centuries passed forgotten by society It started from a permanent nothing, Beyond the black mantle of death, Ancient deformed inhuman forms, Buried in the flesh of disintegration. The dead cry out, interminable and monotonous Rites of the miserable turned to dust, Their plaged larvae of beating hearts, Emaciated, covered and left to rot in the creation. Where the empire of man is made dust.