Стихотворение о декадансе родной земли и о меркнущей надежде. Восходящий огонь символизирует отлетающие души последних хранителей прошлого.
The cradle of the dead carnation
Is swinging on the wind of time
This age is tainted by damnation
And I'm returning to the prime
I've been the uninvited comer
In the murk cemetery of past
I trudged to leave the cheerless summer
And its pale sun seemed like the rust
Bereft of the bright shine and lustre
Engrossed by the malignant light
The prelude for the big disaster
I witnessed in the nature's blight
And walking through the lifeless level
Without the dream to incarnate
I almost faced the eyes of Devil
Under the scales of grief and hate
But some kind of a heaven's favour
Has stopped my fate upon this coast
Since that I feel the numbing glamour
And my despair is overdosed...
...Tonight I stand and watch the fire
Uprising from the river's smooth
The flames within my soul expire
But still there'll be a spark of truth
The memories are in disorder
My hallowed land lies down and cries
I know I cannot cross the border
To the departed paradise
There's no hope in the cold nigrescence
Because too many years have passed
The silent music grieves my essence
Among the tombs of love and lust
But yet the ciphers of Completion
Are kept in my despondent heart
Another chapter of my mission
Must end to make a brutal start
So, as the graceful flowers wither
And the dark demons reap their crop,
My verse will fly into the ether
From the infernal mountain's top