Et Nox Facta Est

How that gentle seed could have made
such a bitter fruit?

The suns were far away but all like still lives
were shining in an eternal dawn.
The thunder rumbled into the deaf skies
Creating a myriad of entities called men.

Inside my life has quickly turned to a gruesome celebration,
‘cause everyday, men, by their own hands satisfy their dementia.

Inside their heart was reigning the deep and gloomy darkness of a new feeling I don’t have.
But now I understand that word ; the thing they call “fear”.

They broke the spell tonight, now I got to divorce them.
They have committed an unforgivable sin and signed a pact with my starving rival.

I have lost the final battle.
Goodbye.
Adeus.