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Beyond the reflexions



Beyond the reflexions, beyond the ethereal past that rots in dead memories the dust of time settles and the words merge they are shadows of a past that fades in hidden lairs where they should have never been. Broken skulls with empty eye sockets haunt with an icy grin, bones dried to the marrow by the chemical of death. Wings of dirty leather dried in a rotten tomb spread their shadow between the tombstones of the cemetery moved by the power of the stars, cold and sharp reversal, caught behind the mirror in eternal dormancy. Cut the raw meat of the thorax in the dark, let the blood flow free, worms follow the call of Death. Breath of the other side is blizzard and it cuts inside the living, lying dead but dreaming. Beyond the reflexions, beyond the fragile past bitter cold freezes at the other side, motion hampered by the call of Death, the pressure comes at night to stay.
Satànic - Portada

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