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Wind's fingers caress the tips of corn fields |
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Howling gusts recount misery to Autumn leaves |
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Planes repose beneath immense necrose livid air |
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Like the chill that is sung deep from within |
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Deep from within the earth |
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Echoes from a soil, a witness of aeons drenched in sore |
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Murmuring whispers haunting |
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Spiralling voices enraging |
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Trepid dissonant chants cling |
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Perpetual unremmitting malady |
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With eyes sown afloat in a void |
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Lurking in hideous abodes |
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Cling to the depths of poverty |
|
Perpetual unremmitting malady |
|
Like the chill that is sung deep |
|
Deep from down within the earth |
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The stones upon which hours etch their name |
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Roll and fall into abysmal depths |
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To meet the buried sea |
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To sink unread until the end of all time |
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Absorbed in the folding heaviness of silence |
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At one with the null |
|
Morphed shades start taking shape into forms bizzarelly |
|
Minsijin maz-zmien |
|
Like the chill that is sung deep |
|
Deep from down within the earth |
