To the Night

Alone The time fades away, only pain remains; So I'll walk alone just like a ghost. In this blue shade I make my day, Hiding my rage behind black sunglasses. All my wounds are still open And my heart's completely broken; I'm the king of a desperate land, I'm the shadow of myself. Like Macbeth or Mister Lear, I'm the man who lives in fear. Where have the days of glory gone? When has this torment begun? The stars look down from the empty space, Staring at me like an idiot crowd; Beneath those evil skies my body lies, Kissing the ground, still searching for darkness. All my wounds are still open And my heart's completely broken; I'm the king of a desperate land, I'm the shadow of myself. Like Macbeth or Mister Lear, I'm the man who lives in fear. Where have the days of glory gone? When has this torment begun? For My Lorraine My dear Lorraine, Do you remember when We used to dance Under rainy skies? Our passion enlightened the darkness Of many frosty years. We enjoyed every tear, every kiss, Every moment we spent together. Oh please, tell me Lorraine, What am I supposed to do now? Oh please, tell me Lorraine, What does life mean without your love? Maybe one day We'll meet again. My sweet Lorraine, May your body rest in peace, But let your spirit Be always next to mine. Lead my way from the Heavens above, Let your light shine down on me. Hear my voice, oh sad torment of mine! Join me in my solitude. Oh please, tell me Lorraine, What am I supposed to do now? Oh please, tell me Lorraine, What does life mean without your love? Maybe one day We'll meet again. It's Your Turn I can't stand your complaints, You're drowning in your tears. Rise up now and take your chance! Walk the road to your dreams. It's your turn To make things right, Don't wait again. It's your turn, Just free your mind From all the pain. The weakness of the will Is the poverty of the soul, So spread your wings and take a deep breath: Reach the Sun, risk everything! It's your turn To make things right, Don't wait again. It's your turn, Just free your mind From all the pain. It's your turn To make things right, Don't wait again. It's your turn, Just free your mind From all the pain. Plutonian Shores The silent tears touch the ground, Forming a vast, sounding ocean; Someone's calling my name, But I just can't answer. I'm crawling on Plutonian shores: The sky is red, the waves are black, There is sickness in the soil. How sadly the city clock tolls, Where hope is lost and faith is gone, Where shadows grow and creep like chilly wind. Reveal your secret, weak man! Your insignificance hurts me; Tell me how can you live In a so senseless world? I'm crawling on Plutonian shores: The sky is red, the waves are black, There is sickness in the soil. How sadly the city clock tolls, Where hope is lost and faith is gone, Where shadows grow and creep like chilly wind. Freia Sitting on a stone, I stare At the seacliffs down below: They're almost hidden in the mist And only enlightened by the moon. Where's that sweet and tender love, That once covered me with grace? And those eyes, those shining lights! Eternal gems in Heaven's air. Oh, Freia! Loud and bold my voice is calling For your love. Like drops of summer rains, the tears Run down my heart. Arise and stab my gloominess! Oh, Freia! He, who saddens thinking of your smile, Is here to ask For absolution and forgiveness; He waits for dawn, But the Sun won't rise again. As lonely as that pale lighthouse, Surrounded by the fog, I wander now in the dark night While woeful visions cross my mind. Western Rust Oh, Western Rust! I wander among ruins and despair, Western dust on me. The broken oath Between gods and men Has blackened this land; In silence I stare At the world that's crumbling down. The lilies are dancing on a nameless grave, They're singing the requiem For a forgotten dead: "What once was is no longer", We constantly repeat, While muses are drowning in an eternal sleep. Oh, Western Rust! A poem for the greatest fall, For the twilight of the Ageless Ones. Ragingly, The Nothing devours everything in its path. What is left But emptiness and void? The lilies are dancing on a nameless grave, They're singing the requiem For a forgotten dead: "What once was is no longer", We constantly repeat, While muses are drowning in an eternal sleep. The brazen bells are tolling in a starless dusk; Filled with anguish, We shiver at their prophecy: "Who will now inherit the power of the Gods? Not heroes, nor wise men, but money and machines." The Chosen I'm the chosen and the beloved, Gather around me, brothers in arms! Raise your heads, enjoy the dusk, This eventide will be the last. May joy be in your hearts, For doom and glory are waiting for us. In memories we'll live again, Rising above oblivion. In every song we'll be remembered, In every place they'll carve your names. No one will forget the great sacrifice! In every song we'll be remembered, In every place they'll carve your names. No one will forget! The horn is ringing: Night has gone. The day of slaughter has finally come. Roam with me, mighty friends, As one we'll be once again. Time moves in circles, this ain't the end. Don't fear the void, be calm and strong. In memories we'll live again, Rising above oblivion. In every song we'll be remembered, In every place they'll carve your names. No one will forget the great sacrifice! In every song we'll be remembered, In every place they'll carve your names. No one will forget! To The Night Shining tired on the waves The setting sun; Its beams, red and bright, Gently pierce the sea. Its chariot's descending The clear western sky; Night's claiming her right To rule the world. Her wings open wide, Under which we'll mourn and pray, Will hide our shame; My dear Guinevere, In dismal grief we'll find Full redemption. A flock of crows, Approaching noisily, Stubbornly croaks Sober words to me: "That yearning heart of yours! You fool! What have you done? Bringer of death, Your soul's forever lost". Her wings open wide, Under which we'll mourn and pray, Will hide our shame; My dear Guinevere, In dismal grief we'll find Full redemption. Night's wings open wide, Under which we'll mourn and pray, Will hide our shame; My dear Guinevere, In dismal grief we'll find Full redemption.