Do you remember? what you have done to that body? You are still aware to remember. Poet, infamous poet, Your feather never wrote something so vile
That body... its grave violated by you Under the darkness of the night you led it, On gallop, to the solar of the family
In that night, there was no moonlight You thought of being safe, after all the attic... Do you remember what you have done? You made love to that cold body, dead body! Thirsty, thirsty of sensuality and madness!
And after that, still trembling and excited, You took that old white weapon, Still shining the sharp edge Destroying the body piece by piece, Yes, you had to do it What feelings have you tasted in that moment? Which emotions have you tasted in that moment?
You thought of throwing the pieces in the fire... To fire! amused by that, you didn't notice The light coming closer...
A woman’s shout was heard... Afraid and furious you rose, Moving towards the intruder It was the poor maid...
She let the light fall from her hands, She has also fallen to the ground. She was the maid... You hurt her with your sharp sword
You lift the light still lit, Looking at that pale face, without expression And she was the maid...
And you decide to write These blaming words, With your own blood, Blood of your own wrist cut by yourself With the same sharp edge that Put an end to your love...
Now your tragedy is written in red In the words of the cuserd black metal book Forever and ever your madness will be readed In the dark chapter of insanity
Is too late to coming back, poet... Well come to hell Your destiny is sealed in fire Sealed as the grave of the mind, Once you loved pain Remorse, guilty and death...