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1. |
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Desterted groan from haunted sickened mind,
not meant to reach deliverance.
The webs so strong that shroud me back to you
and only you can save me from.
Oh, will I drown again into this endless chasm of pain
or I will mesmerize myself, entering the emptiness.
Murder! Treason! Screaming within.
Dearest! Distant! Our colors fade.
And when your shadow grows chaotic legions march my soul.
I kneel to sacrifice myself to save the rest what's left of you.
As I sink into the Mire, our colors fade.
I let the storm within to deconstruct, devour my will.
Of bond that dies by our own hands, of life that ends before the end.
Our love could only blossom in a soil of blood and tears,
and now we separate the magnets, it's time for farewell, my dear.
As I kneel before the altars of necrotic karma.
Clouds of Nihil above my head.
Chemichal rivers running through my veins.
If we could only blossom, but we fade.
Sobriety is lost.
Corrupted self.
Empty.
Self.
Empty.
Shell.
As I kneel before the altars of necrotic karma.
Altars of death.
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2. |
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Thick shadows weight upon the Hypnos gates of sleep.
My fears running deep into the borderland of dreams.
I can't rest no more in that capsule I've built,
from the seizures of my wrongs and the solid walls of fear.
Kneel, my savior, kneel, beside my weakened body
and guard me with your shield in horrid nights like these.
Shivering in liquid state. Half-asleep, half-awake.
In the vortex of ill thoughts when I close my eyes I see the black no more.
Shapeless demons feeding from miasmic soul.
Wake me, oh You, Monarchs of the Not or drown me once and for all.
Godless landscapes are my dreams. Endless tunnels of my sleep.
Here I belong where the walls are echoing my cries:
“Phobetor, Epiales, Patheos, Oneiroi!”
The night is not a host. The day brings no salvation.
In hypnagogic trance, hallucinate, each time I fall apart.
Lucid dreams and dreadful hours
when I close my eyes I see no black.
At the Hypnos gates of sleep into the borderland of dreams.
Kneel, my guardian, kneel, beside my feverish body,
and cover with your shield the wreckage left of me.
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3. |
Hymn to Pan
10:15
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4. |
UPYR Sofia, Bulgaria
The five of us were brought by the Deceiver himself in the Winter of 2012 to fulfill the predestined existence of this World.
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