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.
