Continue to your download.
Start Interactive Ad Now
Thanks for watching.
EssenceThe essence of things, of objects, of anything is like a slimy, slippery round stone, which humans have always been trying (and are still trying) to grab. Some stones (essences) are small and therefore they slip away from the side of your hand or through the gap of your fingers; they jump away from your clenched fist and bolt out of your supposedly tight grasp.In the end, the only thing that remains in your hand is nothing but slime, a wet coating that represents the outer appearance of those aforementioned things.The real essence ran away: it is still hidden somewhere and it is reforming its skin, like a slithering serpent lurking in a forest. Other stones, however, are comparable to large, slimy, wet and slippery boulders. Man has always tried to cling to them, to climb them, to plunge his nails and teeth into the sides of those boulders, in vain.In the end, the only thing that remains in his arms is nothing but slime, a greasy stain, capable only of showing the exte
GrainDrowning in the deepestseas of lonelinessI thoughtWe dwell on a tiny grain of sandcast away from everything elseforgotten, light years away,surrounded by immense beltsof stars red and meteorites grey.Man thinks he can conquer landconquer people, souls and mindsBut even if he should succeedhe would only have control overan insignificant, trivial grain of sanda grain of salt, a particle, lost again,lonely, fearful, shivering, blindfrightened child among the fearless Men.
YouSometimestwo lonely Atomsblend togetherThey meetin a dustycourtyardSuddenlya new formtakes shapeThe hidden bondsof Natureforged YouRandomnesshas never beenso precise
FrameBlink of an eyeFrozen world, for a fleeting instantEverything, everyonestill and motionlessThe spiralling tunnel stayedwide openA swift tap of the finger, and...Mirror gave wayGuillotine came downin a fraction of a secondBeams of piercing lightcaressing the half-closed eyelidwith the gentle strokesof a painter's work of artEternal beings capturedon a slim layerThe smothering rapture ofthe Ageless Slayersubsides and loses its mightAs every being that was caughtin this thin laceworkwill find its resting place thereThus, either among fright and fraughtor joy, relief and peaceful glareTheir presence will abidingly lurk
Last DanceDance to the rhythm, dance faster and fasterDance 'til your bones burst out of your skinDance, knowing that Pain is your masterDance 'til you lose control over body and mindDance to the sick laughter of the judgesDance to the fine tune of your Demon withinAs the music comes to an end, just leave behindyour fragile material form, and gracefully scatterthe ashes that bind your pains and hold your grudgesLacerate your frozen forms and sticky shapesWake up, at last, to the restless rattle and clatterof your shivering Soul ere its long-awaited liberationRest now, for your bones have molded a majestic throneRest, roaming shadow, bereft of dwelling and nationRest, captive spirit, stranded savage that scrapesRest, and plunge into the haunting reveries of oldRest on the dry plains and barren lands unknownRest forever, rotting under a blanket of reeking mold