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Storages of materia collapse in spere of inconceivable ancientness
Mankind weeps in its last hours
Decayed at its feet
Demons are almost come
With outstretched arms, driven far by blindness, seeking refuge through ruins of a dark past
I summon forgiveness, the one that cannot be conceived by our witless mind
The dominant impulse
To hide behind the shades of madness
Here any pain can reach what we’ve built
A metaphysical paradise
Light loses intensity, vanishes
It will never lead us again in this dark world
The will of atlantis
Ruination of progress
With outstretched arms wrapped in biomechanical umbilical cords
I hold my last breath waiting for the end
Storages of materia collapse in spere of inconceivable ancientness
Mankind weeps in its last hours