Bereavement: A Multitude In Martyrized Flesh

Se-woo, ha-nah e-too-hee pagh-ri
Han-noo dim-mi, d'dia-tee-qeh kha-tha

Forgive me not Father
Cause I never blasphemed in opposition to your word
But it’s only against the human’s blind laws
That I proudly… Sin

Crucify! Crucify! With the rusty nails of mortals
You bury divine flesh down below
And yet this place still whispers ceremonial litanies
A transcendental plague

A river of incense cross a forgotten soil
It flows into the vast, sad oceans that you mourn
And nothing is observed and assumed down there
If not the first commandment of the soul

Do Sin! Do Sin! This dusk lies beneath a fractured mirror of sins
The moon and the sun will then emerge from the earth
To sanctify the one who blaspheme
Do Sin! And it snows deep down again
Bright stars falling fast in a spiral of Sin
And the sky became a vault

And what human’s vileness has set as a weak limit
Was crossed with a wearing, horrible idea of pain

Shining incarnation, a desolate death
In wise and gentle solitude compliance turns to dust
Resounding in the echoes of stillness
A new creator feeds its limbs