Nemesis Ocvlta piosenki

A transmutation is the metaphor of a diathermy in the water. I am looking at the castle that is coming down, the first man is at my side. Life goes on as a water snail. Why are we here, in the summit of the scale? Just a horizontal stairway. Soil...

Ground slave, without can't fall: always down. Reasons? For what? I only see monstrousities: In the Hashish field, I see the Harvester. Killing my bride in a trestle table. When would be unleashed the hell? Both dummies, in an incessant doubt...

Look around me and find my desillusion like the dog that plays with a worm, and forgets his unfaithful destiny. From my hand emerges the horror of what's possible, all oxide is to the iron as the crystal to the somber. The remembrance is the breath...

Why do we believe that the suicide's denial of the life, it is not by any chance the aproximation of the ether? If the ether-nity does not exist, it's then the suicide denial of the life: ether-no. Denial of the ether: Nemesis Ocvlta. Denial of the n...

From the plain hangs a reality chunk. Everything is unattainable while dead; the desire corrupts the death, seduces it and transforms it into power. Behind me the fear betrays me (...from the sky the thunder emerges like caterpillar of his cocoon.....

A maiden, wounded by anxiety, waits that the winter settles in a leaf, the snow that can dry her tearful breast. Avidity for a thalamus where all pain is gone, resting with the mother-tree. To bath in a waterfall where a god is hidden after a crim...

In the nectar grows the moss, there is no difference... And I saw to the whole that was glass and the one: Fire. Lost images that hang from a subtlety similar to the breath, where there is no wall that separates the straight line from the sp...

I think about the cranium that is within me, and the prothesis included in IT... The echo drips in an iron vessel: metronome of madness. The beauty returns with the moderation of the feline, and the face with the worst of the impossible: all the fo...

The last second: I can't imagine my birth, I loose myself in the "beggining". There has been always a terrible fear to the begginings and to the ends. In which moment we began to fear death? Even the infinite is insufficient, the exception is...