Through dun and weary times, under the curse of ancient ones
we've been gathering the sour-sweat fruits of knowledge
As silent ghosts do we wander in the empty halls of rapture
while an evensong is mumbled for our confused desires
Mephisto, angel of darkness
You have deceived us
we gave our soul for emptiness
our wings for distress
Now the gates are closed
our own mind has became our dungeon
Oh, how I wish to return
to those scented fields of heavens
We're pawns of a Divine Comedy being pulled on the thread of sorrow
a false heaven awaits for us where the Devil slumbers
We raise walls of tears around the church of our nothingness
and we stand in awe of mightly shades till a new dawn comes