Cantos

I'll write the story of the world In cryogenic sleep I lost my sense, I lost my soul Experiencing craziness has made my heart turn cold For centuries and more, I've searched my head for perfect words I'll take my chance or live forever in a world of hurt Impalement on a tree of thorns is definitely an option I need the Beast to write my cantos without interruption The trinity is split, parts roaming back through time and space And Empathy is to be lured out of its hiding place I'll face the pain with open mind 'Cause otherwise I'd die inside The perfect irony in life I know the answer to the future Now is to be solved by us The seven pilgrims of mankind To be a true poet is To become god On the verge of suicide the butchery began And writing capabilities came back to me again The disappearance of my muse had ceased with all the killing The cantos only lived through all the blood the Beast was spilling My poem burned, destroyed in desperate screams of misery And so, I'll find my inspiration on the shining tree I'll face the pain with open mind 'Cause otherwise I'd die inside The perfect irony in life I know the answer to the future Now is to be solved by us The seven pilgrims of mankind "With ashes flying to the sky I realize the reason why"