War inside...spills blood from your veins
Voice of your deadly own
You fade like the portrait...that's bygone.
You sip from the chalice of bane
Weakness poison your soul
The shine in your eyes...burns low.
Hear my cryin' from outside
Don't believe in their lie
You should know...it's late
and you'll die ...
... in the lake of brine.
You fall like the autumnal leaf
in the garden of pain
Broken in your room...lost in vain.
You should wake up from eternal sleep
Hear the noise from bellow
Life flows to nowhere...
...and the centuries go.
Flagelation - the one way
of your moaning and grime