"Tic Tac" , says the clock,
A cold presence, gaze at the world,
Beyond the seas, above the clouds,
A moon so brightly shines, oh lord,
The faithful tremble, the blind will not bow,
They have the knowledge to not trust you now,
"We are immortal" they say as they yell,
They bring you lord, the apathy of hell...
But you lord, you are hell and heaven,
You are Death, that seeks the old flesh,
To steal its breath, purifying the realm,
By its sins, the seven...
The seven riders, fallen angels,
They are like You Lord, from heaven and hell,
But they are not Death, they bring only despair,
Desire, pride, lust, vengeance!Curses and Spells!
Oh, the holy and the tainted,
You, creator, invented,
All there is to be...all matter,
All seen and unseen...
You creator, you're not man,
Nor a presence, you are the grand,
The destiny, the chance, the ether,
The never-ending flow of better...
The atoms, the bonds that collide,
That resides in the body,
Soul and mind, of men, of stars,
Of galaxies, a flame burns inside,
The flame of life, a piece of thorn from his formeless state,
A faint dim light, that never fades away,
Begone Dark!There is no place for you here,
Your obscurity will not blind this fountain of tears,
That now experienced, the sorrow of passed by days,
Its pale face, express the true nature of all things:
All things are sick, until they begin moving astray,
Drifting through, away, far away...far from monotony...
The journey itself is a gift from You lord,
A road is paved, for every thing, for every atom,
Colliding with other, seen and unseen matter,
To give shapes to worlds, to billions of stars,
To give shape for life, but still leaving scars,
This life will thrive, evolve, bearing wars,
For dominance, the greed will be born,
The seven sins will find their place in material form...
Song of harmony: creation of the universe...
From chaos to order, from order to chaos,
This is the cycle that gives birth to verse,
To the poetry of life, of death, of nothingness..
The old will die, for the new to be made,
The sun will go down, for the moon to spawn shades,
Pale shades, sobre muses of inspiration,
Black masterpieces in the mind of creation...
The blue old sky, the young fresh flower,
The tranquility of the moment is lost,
In timeless horizons, of wonder and dust,
In the dephts of every second, minute and hour...
As there always must be, there is a "goodbye",
A journey will end, the pages go blank,
But another will start, so there's always a "hi",
And pages refilled, the magic is back...
