Upon that hillside, far away
holds a secret covered with moss...
Blessed be the dew
on this cold graveyard ground...
To look in the mirror and see a "happy"...
To see "acceptable" clothes and jewelry...
Life is nothing without pain and sorrow can it be...
The sand burns as they walk along
to these bastard lands, these children belong...
Thousand wounds
by the distance's sword...
My ribs do not protrude to stab you,
yet with every step on the scale...
I dream only of whispers
but that's where I heard your name...
There is an empress
waiting outside my window...
Heavy metal breath
Liquid fire in my mouth...
Viciously pulsing
Oxygen lacking...
She wanted :
to scrape...