Cover di The Painter's Palette

The Painter's Palette
Album - 19 maggio 2003 - Debaser id 78331

di Ephel Duath

Is it so useless to talk
With these still shades?
Sometimes it seems that
I spy my moves
Through the vent of a glass stone.

...But what am I observing?
The sandpit I'm digging
Doesn't seem deep enough,
'cause the cries of the wounded wave
are covering my strains.

But I long for this amorphous embrace
To reach close connections with my
Ego:
This is the spiral...

Is it so useless to talk
with these still shades?
Il tuo voto:
It's so improbable to find the light,
When clouds are rubbing me.
Words run creating hatred scrawl,
Streets have nothing more to ask.

When I relive this Pain
Chessmen have a unique colour,
And the Clash begins.
I feel all the moves,
I know all the moves,
but I can't expect them:
'cause I'm the battlefield.

My feeble profile seems to implode,
My aural prison becomes the perfect hiding place.
View is overturning
To this internal Abyss,
Where
My withered leaves burn
And mirrors have nothing left to reflect.
Il tuo voto:
Carico...

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