The Agony Of Dream

Произведение следует рассматривать как логическое продолжение "The Virgin At The Gates Of Hell" - обращение к абстрактному персонажу и растолковывание ему персонального мнения о существующей реальности и о бренности земного бытия. Под Bloodstream подразумеваются кровавые реки из Апокалипсиса.
Uncanny Culture - имеется в виду оккультизм.

                The Agony Of Dream
               - to my possible adorer -
                21.12.01.
_______________________________________            
                My Mission Is Over
                (prelude)

My mission is over; my last way is set
From this moment I must be honest
And say: all that I swore I shall not forget
Is gone like the mist in the forest

The black moon still rises inside of  my soul
To shine on the clouded rock's spire
And just the doom's messengers at the stone wall
Stand spreading their hands on the fire...
_______________________________________

Some voices break the placid slumber
The pain returns to kill your mind
Today its yelling mouths outnumber
The havens for the deaf and blind

Outside your door the wind is screaming
About the anguish and the cold
Don't wish to hear? It's not a dreaming
Wake up, despondent man of mold!

You lived behind the brink of lightness,
Your bosom friends were near to tend
Now meet the element of darkness
And welcome here to face the end!

Throw down your fears, the gloom is calling
To recognize the ancient skill
And from the church the bells are tolling
For those, who bear, believe and kneel

I'll show you the immortal forces
In the chaotic green-eyed sky,
The speaking ravens on the crosses
And the divine trance of the fly

Along my path the ground is burning
And as the monks loom dressed in frocks
They guard the anger and the mourning
Of the deranged demonic flocks

The night will lift us up the mountains
To let me hail the great storm's lord
We'll paint the welkin by the lightnings
And shred it with the metal sword

Behold: mankind fights for survival
Like the hyenas in the wood
Without a hope for the arrival
Of the Infinity of Good

And e'en the gods see no solution
The Earth gets viler day by day
And in the heaven's retribution
None could decide the price to pay

The justice is not my vocation
The truth is I don't give a damn
And my own flesh-born incarnation
Is not the essence that I am

Some thoughts are dangerous, I know it
I've buried deep my faded love
It's the damnation of the poet -
To dwell upon the black life's half

That's why I never tried to borrow
The other one's shapes of the woe
I drank in full the bitter sorrow
And did not guess what I look for

So, from the apex of perception
I stop my story - sad and grim
And the completing chapter's caption
Will be The Agony Of Dream.

The inner verity is waning
The gray arms of decay unfold
And the Bloodstream's forever draining
The warlock's wisdom that's been told

But if you will become a witness
Of these apocalyptic scenes,
Please, taste the raging rainfall's sweetness
And touch the striking thunder's strings...

The grand filth brings the big disaster
But no one heeds the prophet's vox
And the salvation for the bastards
Is the eternal paradox

They cry: "Deliver us from evil"
Stampeding from its cruel revenge
But filled just with the nasty snivel
Their "orisons" can't make a change

And only when the dread's descending
Upon the desecrated lands,
They curse their sore misunderstanding
And sacrifice the golden lambs

Look: the enlightenment's liberating
But cannot heal the bled heart's  ache...
I'll walk alone forth through my waiting
You'll stay beside the frozen lake

My spirit soars - free as the vulture
The solitude's my faithful muse
And raised by the Uncanny Culture
My dismal verse needs no excuse.