When life has ceased,
when the termination of the traditional spirit
and catastrophic barbaric desolations
surrounds the core of my linear cold menace,
feeling the power and reflection of the inner winter
which is always present in this cosmic landscapes of sorrow.
Are the winds and whispers ashes of an ancient memory
which tries to release the thousand pictures of agony?
(that lies dormant in the rust and and frost of my cosmos within...)
Shattered and decea**ed all the once bright possessions,
that lead this strange land are now just a feeble flame in my soul...