Lost and betrayed You never tried The fruit is gone. Your soul is dying The shadows of Apocalypse are crawling fast With empty eyes you are bounded by the past Slowed by tempestuous winds of sand You cannot even see the palm of your hands Drowned by the dense dust of time Only waiting for the last remaining sign Nowhere else to walk but towards the dusk With nothing more than your withered husk Still persecuted by visions and tormenting bells Your wishes come true in this dying life of living hell But! You finally escaped the flock And behold, you stand at the door and knock. No matter if your soul is burning or frozen So the last shall be first, and the first last; For many are called, but few chosen. A never-ending walk in this path of madness. If therefore the Light that is in you be Darkness... How great is that Darkness! "Whoever exalts himself will be humbled, And whoever humbles himself will be exalted."