Desolation of belated autumn
speaks to me through mouths of ravens
so unclean and filth
as marsh of lies in which you drown
there is no mankind
Crushed by iron gate you're still bleeding
on wings dogma your wounds you're cursing
so wretched and lost in your sickly existence
your body awaits cold blade you know how you shall pay!
Where is mankind?
You never had a chance to understand
euphoric silence following by storm
faith in existence of sin - vomits on thy grave
I despise all of them who can't hear
beautiful songs of trees