Wistful tears fly toward to paleness

of fallen souls in the spectral

land,my soul resembles the

oblivion of forsaken sadness... 

Still I crawl and still I burn

invisible confusion

exalts the darkness

...early dying



''So cold my frozen body

and hatred regains my eyes

while the soul dies again

and it returns to regency''



I drift between dreadful storms of

hate dreaming in the mist of

mysticism...



And my emotional dreams

wake me into the eternal

turbidity with its endless

tragical eminence...



''Maybe in the forest full

of inclined desires

I bosom goddess of night

but I'll born into darkness again

in the world you will forget''



My soul flies but its enchanted dreams

live forever...