Benevolence in Fear
So now I open the exit door
To this threshold imposing utter submission.
...And this domain in which I rest is the size of your grave
My world of conspiracy remains a secret.
Echoes pierce behind another rotting curtain
In front of what stands here, valor and fear.
Solid as a god, of marble and stone
The flesh not yet carved, it yields a reverie.
It stays alive inside my mind
The day awaits the crimson mourn.
Sculptured beauty in the body of emmisive light
The goddess in black hides around the corner
Our will to live onward no longer shapes our dreamless shadows.
These little things return to our empty solitary.
A dwelling of insanity bleeds our flesh.
A tombstone of marble:
To bury our indocile spirits.
Wither the transfusion of memory
My sacrilege of secret orders:
Rapes the benevolence of our dreams.