1. |
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2. |
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This Place Was Made For No One
I'm walking into a moor you created for no one.
Phasing through ghosts which freeze my bones.
Their howls switch over into my head.
The dreamland I'm in, it starts to fade.
There are no bright meadows, no bright lake.
And the conclusion that raises in my head:
Is it all created by myself?
I noticed a light outside out of the fog
but don't really care for what it says.
„Come over to the reliving enclave“
but my mission of failure, it's not over yet.
- but there is no reliving light when the fog erases.
No one is here to hear your weeps.
Same moments and feelings in earlier years.
The forsaken ghost you're searching, she's not here.
Just the blank, deep pain – inside no life
I will go into the moor, spending time
to find another dreamland-limelight.
„Why can't you see that your journey is an aimless disaster?
No truth, no signs, this place was made for no one“
The dreamland I'm in, it starts to fade.
There are no bright meadows, no bright lake.
- and my torn heart bursts into rage.
The dreamland I'm in, it starts to fade.
There are no bright meadows, no bright lake.
And the conclusion that raises in my head:
Is it all created by myself?
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3. |
Commanding Eyes
05:05
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Commanding Eyes
Never say it was your fault
then you fear it’s all you gave.
And you’ll never recognize
the inner sense of what you are.
In her mind you’re just a game,
brought by ghouls with endless shame.
Never fall down on the knees
in front of your own decision.
Remembering the wasted times,
paralyzed by too much directions.
The sense of this rotten world
is more than she told to you.
Useless fool what have you done.
Don’t follow her nasty twisted light.
Stop the contract, go reverse -
far away from agony.
Sense the distance inside your soul.
Collapse into something new.
Hiding in a forsaken place.
Lamenting, never reaching fate.
Never fall down on the knees
in front of your own decision.
The sense of this rotten world
is more than she told to you.
Never fall down on the knees
in front of your own decision.
Remembering the wasted times,
paralyzed by too much directions.
Still waiting for the blink in her commanding eyes.
Turn into a soulless machine, just for a while.
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4. |
Ominous Savior
06:36
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Ominous Savior
A new messiah arises by our side,
an unkown force, self-proclaimed savior.
Suffocation of a light-hearted soul.
Decapitation by the revived throne.
No reliance, fearful of inquisition.
Condemnation, into the abysm.
Paralysing gleam soothes our mind.
Brainwashing tears - behind a tormentor of doubters.
Ominous savior.
Feel the portent before it awakes.
Suffocation of a light-hearted soul.
Decapitation by the revived throne.
No reliance, fearful of inquisition.
Condemnation, into the abysm.
You are a fighter.
A last stand against the self-styled savior,
finding one's self before fading away.
Ominous savior.
Feel the portent before it awakes.
Suffocation of the infested soul.
Decapitation of the revived throne.
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5. |
Queen of the Forsaken
11:37
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Queen of the Forsaken
She wanders through dark gardens of curse,
seeking for a tempting humming inside.
Following a twilight glow to fight the inner cold,
to find her stolen soulfulness.
Enchained by the undead
Crippled, battered and torn
A tattered white dress
Agonized by creator.
Desire for retribution
An undead, lifeless corpse,
Loss, loss of existence.
The dark corridors of this maze
make her feel inebriant daze.
Frightened by this unknown feeling
she sees a ghastly face in the dark.
Vertigo-inducing confusion
Angst-inducing presence
She squats in the corner, paralised,
waiting for the final assault.
Embraced by the ghosts of the past -
with shattered visions and abnormal thoughts
- her consciousness raises with every strike,
manifests a creeping decay.
In her death throes
she enters her own dreamworld.
Before she feels the final pain
she enters her own dreamworld.
The empire had fallen, a tribe almost eradicated to death.
She sacrificed everything to fight the invading force -
the undead slaughters every will to live.
Whoever dares to confront, the unliving mass breaks one's way through.
The dark ritual is coming near!
At death's door, ensnared by her final torturer
the woman in white tastes the kiss of corpse.
Noone can sense her or find her - forsaken.
The banshees present her the crown of eternal reign.
Queen of the Forsaken
Queen of the Forsaken
She wanders through dark gardens of curse,
seeking for a tempting humming inside.
Following a twilight glow to fight the inner cold,
to find her stolen soulfulness.
Bound to the undead.
Arisen, rescued and strong
A tattered black dress
Agonized by creator
Desire for retribution
Her undead great force
Lost and isolated from the living
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Phisanthropist Saarbrücken, Germany
Progressive Metal Solo-Project by Julian from Saarbrücken, Germany.
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