Grating… grief…
Against my will i break the seal
Of my seclusion…
Against my will i break the seal
Of my seclusion…
The abyss is drinking my soul to the last drop…
The river of tranquility is only water…
A face without eyes, without lips…
Gaping sinister holes…
A mouth opened like a grave…
Despair is visible…
Oppressing winds…
Styx is gnawing a frame of the burnt boat…
A wound in the neck…
Bleeding like a necklace…
I colour my hands red…
The dogs will lick slush off the sand…
The abyss is drinking my soul to the last drop…
The river of tranquility is only water…
The seal is torn off…
…i part the seventh circle…
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