The Apocryphal Wisdom Of An Allegorical Apocalypse -



The prophet: Many martyrs have fallen

since I passed that what



The truth: Many skies have bled.



The prophet: Many gods did return, many prayers

lost their aim many loves have felt.



The truth: Many suns were born.



The prophet: I wonder if the children will forgive ...



When the light dies through infinite darkness

and the children start to cry:

when a scream turns to a whisper

when the ages bleed alive ...

Reality becomes illusion

illusion is reality;

is this an alliance of the ancient

or the new birth of a prophecy?

Unnatural beings, morbid existence

resuscitated horror, ambigious visions

see the apocalypse - rise ...

We were

banned by the fire, in the grip of the ceremony.

We saw

types in our hearts, we denied every life we could give

And

infinity grasped out for slaves, day by day - year for year.

Why

that prophet spoke to the abyss below him:

"Have we ever been free"?

And behind the shade sleeps an apocryphal wisdom

in the hour of twilight

in this legendary times ...

Unnatural beings, morbid existence

resuscitated horror, ambigious visions

see the apocalypse - rise ...

Now that the breath has gone

the fire claims its might;

now that, in this dark millenium

no master is alive.

Now that s castle stands

between the ruins of the past;

now that the omens wither away,

no hope will ever last.



The prophet:



I wonder if the children will forgive