dead spaces

ruins of morality

old scars

smouldering remains of energy

and a crystal like a Lotos Flower

my consciousness



the Army - they are a few

because those who have the fight within

and faces pale white

pass away too often



the enemy seems to be powerfull

and it is easier not to provoke him



cowards!

the Might you know not!



the Path of Enlightment marked with tears

will not go back anymore



the Art

is not to get lost in a vicious dance

in a maze of turnings

mirages

unreliability



once

there was something

taken away from me

I fought

once I won

the victory redeemed with blood



many had to die

I am ashamed of a shadow of doubt

I have been not esteemating



the Might !



once I was given something

in the Black of the Night

I was dazzeled by the Gleam of its Blackness

and the Trees were bowing down before It



now when they are asleep

Dream takes their senses away

and plays with their thoughts

in the Kingdom of Dream

there is no place for them



how much time will flow

before I finish the Dukedom

I am not able to know



this I know

it will be Ye Entrancemperium.