Daemonion i
Promaetheus unboundPossibile muscles of trust.
Wound in the middle of ego.
Those the celest hinms of unfondateness
Now hit what you feel by yourself.
Things are projection of concepts of things
By knowledge we fullfill suggestion with truth.
Goddess we give to stone,
Conscience would surely dethrone.
Thats what we dream:
to see the white horse win
instead of the black one.
But even we rest, by flesh and by bones
Soul is fallen out of the glass
straight into human flesh.
Now reach what you need by yourself.
Teaching of substance and touching of light
Anima, self tragic page full with cries.
But the more youll get close to the light,
the more youll be loosing the fight.
Thats what we dream:
to see the white horse win
instead of the black one.
But even we rest, by flesh and by bones.
Soul is fallen out of the glass
straight into human flesh.
Now reach what you need by yourself.
Those the celest hinms of unfondateness
Now hit what you feel by yourself.