Naked hands
Astarte
Wondering hands, the trees!
The naked stones of grey beauty,
Gathered to kiss the ground's hunger.
Extatic hate upon man's reply.
The war against human instinct.
I summon the dirty blood of what we are covered.
The naked stones of grey beauty,
Gathered to kiss the ground's hunger.
Extatic hate upon man's reply.
The war against human instinct.
I summon the dirty blood of what we are covered.
Still I watch the sky
I see within a cry.
For what we fear!
For the why we leave!
Naked hands, the forgotten trees.
Stare as I paint the last eagle.
The symbol of life
The black sign of the sky.
A last leaf of a tree,
The only breath left.
Questions have been made to give no answers
On the hill I gaze the fortress
Made by Nature's hands.
It stares useless for the weak ones,
But precious for those who know the way.
Still! I watch the sky,
I see without wanting to cry.
For what we still believe,
For the reason we live
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