Wistful tears fly toward to paleness of fallen souls in the spectral land,my soul resembles the oblivion of forsaken sadness... Still I crawl and still I burn invisible confusion exalts the darkness ...early dying
''So cold my frozen body and hatred regains my eyes while the soul dies again and it returns to regency''
I drift between dreadful storms of hate dreaming in the mist of mysticism...
And my emotional dreams wake me into the eternal turbidity with its endless tragical eminence...
''Maybe in the forest full of inclined desires I bosom goddess of night but I'll born into darkness again in the world you will forget''
My soul flies but its enchanted dreams live forever...