I do profound the death,
Inside which it weakens me
Not mine acting does it cause
it is in fear
But blindness thou see in every mortal -
dreamlike thought,
including in me
Beheaded I am,
greedly waiting besides thine grotesque being
For a saviour of this soul
had it even ever been ?
Thou all art but blind fruits, in mine created bowl;
Only feeling my hunger to thine flesh,
as stars have come old
It Is a desolate night in me again,
so I was told
Carried I did the shadow alone,
to these crystalmoors
With a bare arm and drop of blood
as I do recall
My reasons for vast profoundness,
are deepen far away
By the shimmering light of the "ill-face"
I do stand pale and tall
Wandering about in darkness questioning myself
Was there ever a day at all ?
Music: Azhemin
Lyrics: T M?ensivu