1. |
People Are Lost
04:18
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People Are Lost
An empire laid to waste
In an infernal, demonic haste
In progress,
Cloned in dismay.
A tsardom turned into ruin.
People need
People chose
A tsardom turned into ruin.
People destroy.
Losing desire to live
Equalized with a logarithm of fate
Burnt by mechanical lust
Indoctrinated by an artificial hate
People create
People create...
People create
People elate
People are lost
People are the host
To a global imperial tumor.
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2. |
Anglia
04:36
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Anglia
Anglia - the land of the dead.
Anglia, a chance to survive with your remaining hand.
Tarnished shields of the creator soldiers
buried deep under the soil.
They will remember!
Shamefully,
you have forgotten
glorious history written in blood
and suffering...
...for you to breathe!
Anglia - isle of the damned.
Anglia, people erased, who shall remain?
Sold by the pound!
Poets forbidden, fathers displaced...
Led by the hounds
corrupted, rotten, satanic wights.
You - once glorious people
Kings of renowned, scepters in hands,
conquered by slaves of the golden cross,
(you) kneel in the mud of oblivion rains...
Anglia - realm of broken ties.
Anglia, is it too late to arise?!
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3. |
Decade Spell
04:03
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Decade Spell
As a beauty turns undead
Petrified of last farewell
A decade long spell
Rests above my fatigued shoulders.
Innocence unveiled
under a timeless rock
A dormant serpent
meant to prevent one blossoming.
Growing stronger
like a seed turned to mountain
Overlooking universe
Ruling over dreams.
As a beauty turns undead
Facing all the hard moments
A spell of decades
Lays itself in a somnolent grave.
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4. |
Mutual Guilts
03:34
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From the rivers
From the hills
From the Fens
And remote ends
From the dells
and hidden caves
We have gathered -
- forward we shall march.
''Oh God,
Give me premature death
So I shan't see the disaster.
Mutual guilts
will be washed in blood
Not in redemption -
- but in a fratricide.''
The horde of the steppes
cutting off the loose ends.
Wearing blade of justice
whirlwind of revenge.
Mother river heals us with its water
Soil of Steppe has given us the shelter
Inborn prowess pulls us ever forward
We'll reclaim the holy lands of Poland.
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5. |
Unwritten
04:26
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Unwritten
Empty pages within me
that are laid before me
spread to infinity.
Pages of unwritten times
echoes of countless laments
for what do we sell our lives?
All the words that had perished
long before we were reborn
have no place to go,
but to find their final rest
on the scrolls on which we test
our role
our final goal.
('Cos we) can't escape that all we have to say.
time is nigh for letters to be lain.
So - this mission,
(so - this) confusing conflict and collision
victorious emerge.
Empty pages of forgotten dreams
times of loss and hours of screams...
for what do we live our lives?!
For what do we leave our lives?
PS:
From the hardships do not run,
in the struggle you become
the writer and the sage.
Where prowess steps - fortune follows
do not let the concepts swallow you -
- drink deep from your rage!
Fill each empty page!
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6. |
The Abandoning
04:35
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The Abandoning
-I- (The Sunset)
Twilight closes petals of a rose
at sunset,
crimson dying.
Whispering an ominous farewell
to a field
of magnificent flowers.
-II- (The Slaughter)
The struggle is over, done
Life is forfeit
Confusion, pain, blood
Drained, blackened seed.
-III- (The Artist)
Taken down in a glorious disaster
Buried deep into monotonous grave
Works undone - withered tools, in a still-life scene...
A harmony of a chaos-ridden art.
-IV- (The Drowning)
The abandoning of the opus has begun
Divine thoughts loose on the run
All shall crumble in an overwhelming sleep
Diving slowly under the river of tears.
-epilogue-
Closing of the hearts
Gathering for a celebration
Closing of the hearts
Yearning for a celebration...
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Dvoeverie Montenegro
Doom/Gothic Metal band from Montenegro
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