Erotic and dreamlike still in its mortal disguise
A passionate ritual in the ruined garden theatre
The painted angels Once they gathered to worship at the picture of me
Like a whisper where there are no words
Appears the perplexed In the cradle of the next generation
A spiraling ruin
.The faces you saw in the withering garden
I witnessed the flikkering Quivering like little figures lost in broken flames
Never to forget again the names carved in horrid flesh Those words drawn in water
Burn the pictures
So unexpected in this strange deserted place
Once opened its secrets would become the world
Its attributes would continue to unfold forever.
האתר פועל ברישיון אקו"ם
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