Uniting with the soil Clasping the earth and its endless mould. Preserving its soft mire Underneath heavy lids.
Tired by the weight, of the world, Blinded by its cruelty, And linger in my tomb Where none holds sway
My glistening children, Frantic with gluttony. With them I’ll soon have wings, And together we will grow Out of the earth.
And with the hot summer's night Thus I swarm towards the sky. Drifting in the moist breeze, Sweeping the earth Like autumn leaves.
A black horde carries my name, Nourishing on death And drinking decease. But before long The coup will he of life's irony.
Suffering a thousand deaths anew. I’ll be raining silent and cold Out of the heavens, Making the world my grave. Aeons have passed The cycle remains eternal.
Uniting with the soil Clasping the earth and its endless mould. Preserving its soft mire Underneath heavy lids.
My glistening children, Frantic with gluttony. With them I’ll soon have wings, And together we will grow Out of the earth.