Wheel Of Torture
No words can fill the emptiness
Nor match the visions of black
The language of death
Seems somehow forbidden
Yet silence can speak through its eyes
When haunting the shadows at night
Or watching the stars
On a cold and clear wintersky
The secrets make us primitive
My mind is clear and cold
It has travelled for long
A bitter return
From where I belong
My path is destroyed
By the winds of time
Motionless, I grief my loss
In hatred I seek the night
Again for another gate
And the wind sings me an eerie song
And the darkness takes me home.
Этот текст прочитали 403 раз.